


Episode of Blonde

by mysticanni



Category: Bohemian Rhapsody (Movie 2018), Bohemian Rhapsody (Movie 2018) Actor RPF, Queen (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst with a Happy Ending, Crossdressing, Falling In Love, Fame, Implied/Referenced Cheating, Implied/Referenced Homophobia, Implied/Referenced Mental Health Issues, Implied/Referenced Prostitution, Implied/Referenced Sexual Assault, Implied/Referenced miscarriage, Love at First Sight, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-10
Updated: 2020-08-15
Packaged: 2021-03-06 07:22:25
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 24,470
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25829620
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mysticanni/pseuds/mysticanni
Summary: Chat Show host Crystal discovers live on air that his former boyfriend was cheating on him.Bruised by life, Roger dresses as Rose for work, safely hidden behind her persona.When Crystal and Rose meet they are attracted to one another.  Will Roger trust Crystal enough to be himself?  Will Crystal be able to trust again?
Relationships: Chris "Crystal" Taylor/Roger Taylor
Comments: 22
Kudos: 32





	1. Her lovers fell like skittles in a tenpin bowling lane

**Author's Note:**

> The title and chapter title are from "Episode of Blonde/Peroxide Side" by Elvis Costello and the story owes a lot to the song.

The first time Crystal entered the club he was swept inside as part of a group celebrating someone’s twenty-first birthday. Crystal was the friend of a friend of a friend of an acquaintance but his celebrity status meant that he had received an invitation to the party. 

Normally he would have politely turned it down but the invitation had caught him at a bad moment. He had found himself thinking he would give a polite excuse –light-heartedly thinking - I’m washing my hair that day – and then glimpsed his reflection in his phone screen and noted gloomily how little hair he had left to wash. He was getting old, he thought. He was getting old and no one wanted to be with him apart from this slight acquaintance that did not really want Crystal either but wanted to bask in the reflected glory of knowing Crystal.

Well, they didn’t know Crystal and Crystal didn’t think there was any glory to be had in having his phone number but he was feeling down and he had impulsively replied to say he’d be delighted to tag along to the birthday party of whatever the person’s name was. And they had ended up in a club.

It was admittedly a very classy club. The building it was situated in had once been home to a Victorian bank and had a lovingly restored interior of cool marble columns and pretty floor tiles. It was a large building housing a restaurant, casino, piano bar and, behind a heavy metal door that had once led to the bank vault, the club.

A sparkling walkway ran the length of the room and professional dancers gyrated along it. Two glass booths curved out of the sides of the walkway, roughly in the middle of it. Braying groups of men were crammed into these. Crystal assumed there was a hefty cost to hire one of those booths. Some of the dancers undulated into the booths to the howling delight of the occupants while others simply halted a little longer in front of the booths to give them a better view. 

At first Crystal had thought it was a posh strip club but realised that the dancers simply danced. They weren’t wearing very much so Crystal supposed there were limits to what they would be able to remove without ending up stark naked. He wondered if he was getting old. The colour of the lights raining down on them changed constantly as if they were dancing inside a moving rainbow. The names of the current dancer or dancers scrolled across a display screen on one of the walls.

Crystal had already felt out of place and felt even more awkward in this setting. At least the loud music meant no one could attempt to have a conversation with him. The dancers were mainly female. They were pretty, some of them were downright beautiful, but Crystal was not interested. 

He was about to make his excuses to the man whose birthday it was and whose name he had forgotten and leave when the name Rose appeared on the screen and a gorgeous blonde twirled onto the walkway. And suddenly he was surprisingly, astonishingly interested.

*

“I’m having a mid-life crisis,” he told Freddie gloomily the following day.

Freddie laughed. “You’re not middle aged,” he pointed out, expertly dabbing foundation onto Crystal’s cheeks. “What’s got your knickers in a twist?”

Crystal sighed. “I found myself fancying a girl last night.” Freddie listened attentively as Crystal told him about the club and Rose. 

Freddie frowned. “Did you ask if there was any way you could meet her?”

“No,” Crystal shook his head.

“Well, why ever not, darling?” Freddie was carefully applying a little lip gloss to Crystal’s lips so he could not reply. “Does it matter who you are attracted to as long as there is an attraction?”

“I suppose not,” Crystal mumbled.

“Perhaps this Rose is just what you need to help you move on from Ben,” Freddie suggested. 

*

“Crystal Taylor was in last night,” John told Roger excitedly. 

“Crystal Taylor the chat show host?” Roger asked. 

John nodded. “Is there another Crystal Taylor? Anyway, he was with a group. He couldn’t take his eyes off you!” he added. 

Roger blushed. “I don’t believe that for a second,” he muttered. “He saw Rose, not me, and he was dating that actor, wasn’t he? You know who I mean: he plays the brilliant but troubled detective in that drama series my bloody ex also stars in. So he wouldn’t be interested in Rose.”

“Just because he’s dated a few men doesn’t necessarily mean he wouldn’t be interested in Rose,” John pointed out. “Besides, Rose doesn’t really exist and Roger sounds very much his cup of tea.”

“Crystal Taylor could have anyone he wanted. He could have a famous person – an actor or a singer or a model. He’s hardly going to look twice at a dancer in a club,” Roger noted. “I’d be an embarrassment to him.”

“You don’t know that,” John protested. “Anyone would think they’d won the lottery if you looked twice at them. Besides, you used to have a famous husband,” he added.

Roger snorted. “Yeah and when I got unceremoniously dumped by him I ended up working here like the talentless loser I am.”

“Hey,” John scraped his chair back and moved around the desk so he could hug Roger who was leaning against the filing cabinet. “You are not a talentless loser, Rog. You’re our most popular dancer.”

“People finding me attractive when I wiggle my arse could hardly be called a skill,” Roger mumbled.

“You’re our most asked about dancer,” John informed him, “and you get the most tips. I do the books so I know. You are not a loser.”

“Thank you,” Roger said. “That’s very sweet of you, John, but we both know that in the eyes of the world Brian May’s ex-husband working in a club is the very definition of a loser.”

*

Crystal waited for the laughter to die down. He grinned at the ‘rising star’ actor whose anecdote had caused such amusement. It was always a relief when the guests were sparkling. He was slightly apprehensive about his next guest. “And my next guest needs no introduction: please welcome the one and only Brian May, ladies and gentlemen!”

The crowd clapped and there were a few cheers but Crystal would not have said the audience were going wild for Brian May. He rose to greet him and the first guest shuffled along on the guest sofa to make room for Brian to sit down. When Crystal hugged Brian he could feel him trembling slightly. This was a damage limitation exercise for Brian and Crystal could understand why he was nervous. He suspected Brian’s publicity team had impressed upon him that he needed to go on a charm offensive to placate fans who had been appalled that he had been caught cheating on his second wife and was facing another marriage break-up. The details were hazy – the press had not even discovered who Brian had been cheating with – but there had been a lot of bad publicity. The soon-to-be-ex wife had kept a low profile but her friends had complained vociferously about Brian on her behalf.

Crystal had not interviewed Brian before. He was the writer and star of the hugely popular detective series Crystal’s ex also starred in. Brian had written the books the series was based upon and had then adapted them for television. He played the straight-laced detective and Ben, Crystal’s former lover, had suggested that Brian was like that in real life too. “He can’t actually act,” Ben had scoffed. “He’s just playing himself.” Crystal had thought that was harsh and had said so. “He’s a very good writer,” Ben conceded, “and he’s a lovely bloke. He’s just not an actor. Not everyone can be.”

Really, Crystal reflected now, it was astonishing that he had not met Brian before. “A new series of Evidence will be on our screens soon, Brian,” Crystal said now. “This was a difficult series for you, wasn’t it? Your wife, who plays the pathologist in the series, very publicly left you during filming. How did you feel?”

Brian looked like a deer caught in the headlights. He ducked his head, his abundant dark curls dipping and waving around his face. His fingers plucked at the hem of his loose shirt. “I was very sad,” he told Crystal in a soft voice, after a moment. “I did something very wrong and I hurt someone I loved very much and I wish it hadn’t happened.”

“You had an affair, didn’t you?” Crystal tried to keep his voice low and sympathetic. The whole country wanted the details of the destruction of Brian’s marriage. The studio audience were waiting, poised like vultures, looking to feast on the inside story.

Brian nodded. “I had an affair with my co-star, Ben,” he confessed, adding, “Ben Hardy who plays the other detective in the series,” as if anyone would not know who he meant.

As if Crystal might not know who he meant.

Time seemed to stop for a moment. Crystal was dimly aware of the audience gasping in unison. He faintly registered the voice in his earpiece instructing him to keep calm. A detached part of his mind wondered if they had any helpful suggestions about how he should keep calm. He could feel the heat of the studio lights and noticed that Brian was shaking slightly. Crystal swallowed, hard. He wriggled his toes to ground himself. A little voice in his head told him that he must pretend he had known this devastating news. Ben had already left, after all. Ben had already hurt him. “And your wife found out?” he probed. Brian’s wife had been smarter than him, apparently.

Brian nodded again. “I feel very bad about that,” he told Crystal. “She walked into my trailer on set and we were... Well, it was a bad way to find out. I mean, I don’t suppose there is a good way but... I feel very bad about that.”

Crystal nodded. There probably wasn’t a good way to find out. Finding out live on television wasn’t the best experience he had ever had, for example. He imagined Ben’s fair head against Brian’s profusion of dark curls. Had Ben been drawn to someone with abundant hair? Had he left Crystal because of his receding hairline? “How long had you had feelings for Ben for?” Crystal asked.

Brian flushed. “I used to fantasise about Ben in the role he now plays when I was writing the books. I had no idea then that he would actually play the part or that I would be his co-star. I’ve had a crush on him since I saw him in the period drama that made him famous.”

Crystal considered this. “So when you wrote the books, when you wrote the love affair between the two detectives, were you imagining you and Ben in those parts?”

Brian’s blush intensified. He nodded. “So your fantasy has now come true?” Crystal said. The studio audience were lapping this up. The viewers at home would be too. He supposed Ben would be watching. He wondered how he appeared to Ben and to the people at home. Had he covered his distress at learning Ben had been cheating on him well enough?

“I am very sorry that I hurt my wife,” Brian told Crystal, “but being with Ben was a dream come true and I’m afraid I very selfishly took that chance when it presented itself.”

Crystal wondered just how Ben had presented himself to Brian. Had he tied a red ribbon round his cock and waited naked in Brian’s trailer as a gift? “When did you realise your feelings for Ben might be reciprocated?” he asked Brian. He was not entirely sure he wanted to know the answer.

“When we were filming the last episode of the last series we shot a scene where Ben’s character had been injured and I crouched over him. The camera angle didn’t capture the moment but Ben kissed me,” Brian explained, “which wasn’t in the script – as viewers know our characters are not together yet in the show.”

“So you were on set,” Crystal gasped, “and the scripted tension turned into real life romantic drama?” He could hear a ripple of indistinct murmured comments from the studio audience. They did not sound hostile. Everyone liked a stolen kiss it seemed. 

There had been an end of filming party which Crystal had attended and afterwards he had fucked Ben completely unaware that Ben had been passionately kissing Brian earlier that day. “Is that the scene where Ben’s character has been shot?” He barely registered Brian’s nod. The studio audience were buzzing with this revelation.

“We didn’t mean to hurt anyone,” Brian was saying, “but we are very much in love.”

Crystal nodded as if he understood that. “Did you see each other regularly after that?” he wondered. Ben had still been with him at the time. 

“Yes,” Brian confirmed. He stared at his knees. “We were both in relationships and at the time my wife was pregnant and I was very confused... We tried to keep away from each other but it felt so right when we were together and so wrong when we were apart... Then my wife and I lost the baby and I was a mess... We didn’t mean to hurt anyone. The timing was just awful.”

“Losing the baby must have been very painful for you,” Crystal stated. The press had blamed the miscarriage on the stress of the marital break-up which of course had been caused by Brian cheating. Crystal thought the miscarriage had happened around the time that Ben had ended their relationship. Perhaps Ben and Brian did truly love each other. Had Ben wanted to be with Brian, to console him? 

Had he loved Ben? He had certainly loved him as a friend. Had he mistaken that for something different? He thought perhaps he had. He was slightly surprised to discover that he wished Ben nothing but happiness. He nodded attentively as Brian spoke movingly about his anguish at the loss of his unborn child and how he had stayed with his wife to support her. “Ben had ended his relationship by then,” Brian said, “although we were not seeing each other at that time. However, when we started filming again it was just too hard for us to keep away from each other.”

Crystal nodded again. Brian’s public relations team would be pleased, he thought. Perhaps that was cynical of him. He thought the studio audience had warmed to Brian. Hell, he had warmed to Brian.

After the initial shock of discovering Brian’s betrayal his soon-to-be-ex wife had proved very understanding and they had parted on good terms. Outraged friends of hers had leaked the parts of the story they knew to the press, however, and Brian had been widely criticised. “Rightly so,” he told Crystal earnestly, “I was very much in the wrong.”

“Ben’s great,” Crystal said, “and I’m glad he’s found someone who can make him happy.” He wondered if it was entirely true as he said it. It seemed like the right sentiment to end the conversation on though. The studio audience were startlingly appreciative too, whooping and cheering and the disembodied voice he could hear through his earpiece was heaping praise upon him.

*

Roger was still dancing as he left the walkway and sashayed down the steps to the drab corridor the customers never saw. He was surprised to see John waiting for him at the bottom of the steps. “Something wrong, Deaks?” he wondered. 

“I’ve recorded the Crystal Taylor show,” John informed him, “Your ex-husband was on it tonight.”

Roger shrugged. “Good for him.”

John shook his head impatiently. “Rog, you have got to see this! Brian was apparently cheating on his soon-to-be-ex wife with his co-star who is also Crystal Taylor’s ex-boyfriend!”

Roger’s eyes widened. “Please tell me Crystal decked him?” 

John laughed. “Sadly, not, he was very magnanimous about the situation. It’s great viewing though!”

*  
Various people clapped Crystal’s back or grasped his shoulder and told him the show had been great as he made his way to the green room to talk to his guests. He never met the guests before the show but always thanked them afterwards. He wondered if the people who were congratulating him had known who Brian had been fucking. He thought that at least some of them would have known.

Brian looked anxious as Crystal swept into the room. The actor and the band crowded round him and he laughed and joked with them. Brian hovered clutching a bottle of beer, looking worried.

Once he had chatted to the other guests Crystal moved over to Brian. “You really won the audience over,” he commented.

“I thought you knew!” Brian blurted out, “I am so sorry! Ben was sending messages throughout the show but my phone was off so I’ve only just seen them. Apparently he thought the talk show I was doing was Dominique’s show on Sunday not your show tonight. I would never have done that to you...Ben would never have done that to you...”

Brian’s breathing was erratic. “It is fine,” Crystal assured him. It was not exactly fine but it certainly explained a few things. He felt a little bristle of annoyance at the mention of his rival, Dominique. They were very different shows though. Crystal offered Friday night fun and anecdotes from stars with something to promote. Brian had been a slightly unusual guest for him and he wondered again which member of the production team had known about Ben’s affair with Brian beforehand and had known they were effectively setting Crystal up.

Dominique had one guest each week in her Sunday afternoon slot and she charmed them into spilling their whole life stories to her over tea and cakes in a leafy conservatory. Crystal reflected that Brian would be a very good guest for Dominique. “Take it easy.” He steered Brian towards a chair. “Have a seat. Just breathe...”

Once Brian had calmed down a little, sipping from a glass of water an assistant had placed in his hand, Crystal said, “I would have preferred to hear it from him and I won’t deny it was a shock but it’s not as if we are still together.” He pushed away the thought that he had been very much with Ben when Ben had first kissed Brian. “Are you doing Dominique’s show too?” he asked.

“You’re very kind,” Brian mumbled, “I feel terrible about it. I haven’t been asked to do her show, no.”

“I expect they’ll want you as a guest,” Crystal said. “You’ll probably get an offer soon.”

*

Roger had wearily gone home after the club had closed but John had made him promise to come over for lunch the following day so he could see the recording of the Crystal Taylor show. John and his husband Miami lived in a luxurious apartment at the top of the building that housed the club, which Miami owned. Roger made his way there clutching a bunch of flowers and a box of chocolates. 

Miami greeted him warmly. “Thank you, Roggie,” he said, accepting the flowers and chocolates. “You know you don’t need to bring anything when you come over. Go on through. John’s in the kitchen.”

John gave him a hug. “Once you’ve watched the show lunch should be ready.”

*

“Brian seems nice,” Miami ventured, sounding tentative, once they’d watched the recording.

Roger sighed. “He is nice,” he agreed. “He’s kind of infuriating but he is a genuinely caring person. We married too young and we should probably just have been friends not lovers. I’m sorry about the miscarriage. Bri always wanted kids and I reckon he’d be a good dad.”

“Did he cheat on you?” John wondered, hastily adding, “Don’t feel you have to answer that if you don’t want to!”

Roger shrugged. “Maybe,” he told them, “I didn’t find out that he was cheating but he was away from home a lot. His career was just taking off then. We broke up just after the first series of Evidence aired, when Bri became famous. He said I didn’t suit his image.”

John frowned. “He was lucky to have you,” he growled.

Roger grinned. “I think the fame changed him. The people around him were all admiring him and praising him and telling him how wonderful he was and I guess someone slipped in the idea that he should upgrade his spouse, that he could do better and that he deserved better. Probably someone who thought they would get the position.”

“Well, he was a fool to let you go,” John stated. He stood up. “Let’s eat.”

They sat round the kitchen table for lunch. Miami poured wine. Roger sipped it slowly, enjoying drinking something so superior to the cheap supermarket wines that were all he could afford. The setting was nice too. Their kitchen alone was three times the size of his small bed-sit. At least he had managed to find somewhere with an en-suite bathroom now, he supposed. 

“Crystal Taylor was in the club the other night,” John told Miami with a mischievous glance at Roger. “He was gazing longingly at Rose.”

“He was not!” Roger protested, feeling a blush creep across his cheeks.

Miami smiled. “I heard he was in the club. Perhaps he’ll return to gaze at you again!”

Roger shook his head. “If he was with a group it’ll have been a one-off visit.”

*

Crystal had weekends off. After the adrenaline rush of the live show on a Friday night he usually took it easy on Saturday mornings. Since Ben had left he had been taking it easy for the whole weekend, drifting around his house – which was really too large for one person – until it was time to return to work on Monday and start planning the next show.

Sprawled across his bed on Saturday morning listening to rain batter against the window Crystal wondered if there was any point in even getting out of bed. How had he become so isolated? He’d always made friends easily but they all seemed to have slipped away. And now, if someone seemed friendly he was never sure if they liked him or if they were attracted to his wealth and fame.

His mind wandered to Rose, with her long hair cascading down her back as she spun around on the sparkling walkway. He thought of her short skirt whirling around her slender legs and imagined his hand sliding up one of her firm thighs. Did Rose wonder if the people she met really liked her or if they were attracted to her because of her beauty?

He considered the club. It had a discreet entrance. It housed a number of leisure options so anyone entering could be going to the casino or the bar. Or they could be going to the club. No one would know. A person could be going to the club to see Rose and no one would know.

Of course there would be plenty of people in the club. Any of those people might recognise him. Would anyone alert the press? He wasn’t doing anything wrong, of course, the club was perfectly legitimate but he knew the public would be unlikely to regard headlines screaming ‘chat show host stalking night club dancer’ favourably.

Would Rose think he was stalking her? Was he stalking her? He could not remember the last time anyone had made such an impression on him. He could go back once, couldn’t he? He’d been drunk and in an odd mood before. Perhaps if he saw Rose again when he was sober and on his own he would discover that he was not actually attracted to her at all. He would go tonight, he decided. He would go to the club tonight and he would get this nonsense out of his system once and for all. 

*

Miami paid his dancers well. Roger knew that some of the dancers gave customers cards showing their contact details and arranged liaisons away from the club as a source of extra income. The customers tended to be wealthy so this was a lucrative option.

If the dancers wished they could dance through the two booths that jutted out of either side of the walkway. This usually meant being groped by the drunken occupants of the booths but also resulted in hefty tips. Security guards stood at the back of each booth if a dancer was present, ready to intervene if things got out of hand. Dancers were allowed to keep all of the tips they received from dancing the booths. No one was forced to dance in the booths if they didn’t want to. 

Roger had worked in much worse places. He applied mascara and batted his eyelashes at his reflection in the mirror. “You look gorgeous,” one of the other dancers laughed. Roger grinned at her. A treacherous little voice in his head asked how long he would look gorgeous enough to do this job. 

He enjoyed dancing along the walkway as it vibrated from his movements and from the pounding music. He felt free as he worked, literally elevated above everyone else. He shimmied for the groups in the booths but never entered them. He was glad Miami let the dancers decide if they entered the booths or not. It was lucrative, of course, as the dancers often had notes tucked into their bras or waistbands or garters by the appreciative customers but Roger did not want to get too close to their prying hands. 

The audience were a blur below him. He arched his back feeling his hair stream out behind him as he struck a pose for the club’s patrons. One of the other dancers had started to take keep-fit classes and Roger wondered if that would be a possible alternative career route for him? He sometimes worked as a bartender for Miami in the piano bar upstairs and Miami had said if he wanted a change there was a job there for him. There were other options but at the moment he felt good doing this, he thought. 

*

Crystal had a table this time in a little booth for one at the edge of the room. There were larger booths too. They were all elevated to give their occupants a good view of the walkway although they were not close to it. The cost of one of these booths was eye-watering and Crystal shuddered to think what the cost of the booths on the walkway must be. He sipped his very expensive drink and watched Rose blowing a kiss just before she shimmied off the walkway out of sight. Crystal sighed. He was still bewitched by her.

His waiter appeared just as he drained his glass. Each booth seemed to have its own very attentive staff to cater to the whims of the rich. Crystal supposed people paying such exorbitant prices expected excellent service. He certainly did. The waiter offered him another drink. Crystal nodded and then, before his mind had time to veto the question, his mouth blurted out, “If I wanted to meet one of the dancers...?”

”Most of the dancers enter the walkway booths, Sir, so one can meet them briefly that way and there have been occasions when the dancers sit with the walkway booth occupants,” the waiter informed him. “Once in a while they may sit with the occupants of these booths.”

The waiter placed another drink in front of him. “Does Rose enter the walkway booths?” Crystal asked.

“Very rarely, Sir,” the waiter told him, “I can make her aware you would welcome her company.”

Crystal grinned, “That would be very kind of you.”

He was about to leave when Rose re-appeared to undulate along the walkway once more. Crystal drifted back closer to the walkway as if her dance was a spell drawing him in. A drunken man staggered into him. “Whoops, sorry! Sorry,” the drunk slurred, “She’s a little darling, ain’t she? She gives a fucking amazing blowjob too,” he informed Crystal. 

“How do you know that?” Crystal yelled into the man’s ear. He was undeniably jealous.

“She used to work at Flights of Fancy,” the man shouted back, “where you could get a private room with the girls. This is much classier.”

“Do you know if she ever joins people in the booths here?” Crystal asked, feeling slightly ashamed of asking.

The man shrugged. “Dunno, mate. Booths cost too much dough for me. I’ll tell you for free, though, the last day of each month they up the number of blokes dancin’ and Rose is never on then so don’t waste your money.”

“I’ll bear that in mind, thank you,” Crystal yelled. 

*

Sunday got off to a slow start. Crystal was blearily drinking strong coffee at the kitchen table when the doorbell rang. He shambled to the door and was surprised to find Ben and Brian on his doorstep. Crystal wished he did not have a hangover and was not wearing pyjamas with rumpled hair. 

Ben beamed at him. “Morning, Crys, you look like shit.”

Crystal glared at him. “Go away.” He stepped back so he could close the door and Ben stepped inside, much too close.

“But we brought doughnuts,” Ben offered.

Crystal stepped further back and reluctantly let them inside. Ben was already on his way to the kitchen. “Sorry,” Brian said with an apologetic smile.

Ben was pouring himself a cup of coffee. Crystal sighed and ran his hand through his hair. “I’m gonna get dressed, make yourselves at home,” he muttered, adding, “Leave at least one doughnut for me,” over his shoulder as he left the room. 

*

Any of Miami’s employees who wanted were welcome to join Miami and John for Sunday brunch in the closed restaurant. The club did not open to paying customers until the evening on Sundays. Roger was a regular Sunday brunch person and he greeted the other regulars happily.

“Crystal Taylor was in again last night,” John informed him gleefully. “Matt was his waiter and he says Crystal was asking how he could meet you.”

“Fuck off,” Roger laughed.

“It’s true,” Miami assured him. He grinned. “You’ve got yourself a wealthy admirer!”

Roger cornered Matt after they had eaten. “I hear you had a customer asking how to meet me last night?” he said, still expecting to discover John and Miami had been joking.

Matt grinned. “Crystal Taylor, no less!” he said. “Would you like the service staff to let you know next time he’s in?” he added. “He’s an extravagant tipper!”

Roger was not sure how he felt about that. He rarely got too close to customers and if he did they tended to be a few selected regular customers. People he felt safe with. 

He found Crystal Taylor very attractive. Crystal was intelligent and funny and put people at their ease. That was his public persona of course. Part of Roger was not sure if he wanted to meet Crystal in real life. What if he didn’t live up to expectations? Don’t meet your heroes, wasn’t that what people said? Be careful what you wish for.

And he had no wish to have a boyfriend who was in the public eye again, as Brian had been. That thought startled him. There was no question of an actual relationship with Crystal Taylor. Crystal had become infatuated with Rose. Rose didn’t really exist. Crystal would not want Roger.

*

Crystal was slightly surprised to find that they had kept him a doughnut when he returned to the kitchen after showering and dressing. He hated the fact that he had put so much thought into selecting an outfit for this unexpected visit. 

Ben offered him a fresh mug of coffee. Crystal reflected slightly irritably that it was his kitchen but accepted because it was nice to be waited on. “To what do I owe the dubious pleasure of your company?” he asked once he had enjoyed the first bite of his doughnut and the first sip of his fresh hot coffee.

Ben ducked his head and looked firmly at the table top. “I wanted to apologise to you in person,” he mumbled. “You should never have found out like that.”

Crystal nodded. “Go on, then,” he said, taking another bite of his doughnut.

“What?” Ben looked confused.

Crystal swallowed and washed the doughnut down with some coffee. “Apologise,” he suggested. “You said you’d like to: so on you go. Give me an apology.”

Ben scowled at him. “You’re so pernickety,” he muttered, “I’m sorry you found out that I cheated on you with Brian live on television,” he snapped, adding in a softer tone, “I am sorry, mate, you didn’t deserve that.”

“Yeah, that was shitty of you,” Crystal said, then sighed. “Thank you, I accept your apology.” 

Ben looked relieved. “Good,” he nodded. “I’m sorry I cheated on you at all. That first kiss just kind of...happened. And we both tried to resist it, really, but we just couldn’t,” Ben sighed. “I never meant to hurt you.” He fidgeted with his coffee mug. “Um – We want you to hear this from us too – We’re gonna get married once Bri’s divorce comes through.”

Crystal was glad he did not have any coffee or doughnut in his mouth as he thought he might have spluttered them across the table in an undignified display. He realised his mouth was hanging open and snapped it shut. “Well... Congratulations,” he offered weakly.

“It probably won’t be for a while,” Brian murmured.

“Thank you for telling me in person,” Crystal said softly, smiling at Ben.

He was surprised when Ben hugged him as they left. “Look after yourself,” Ben urged him. “I’m hoping you still think of me as a mate?” he added. His voice was strained.

“Yeah,” Crystal replied, “of course we’re still mates.” Were they, he wondered? 

“Great,” Ben beamed at him. “I’ll be in touch. We can go for drinks sometime, maybe.”

Crystal was not at all sure about that but found he was agreeing to it anyway. He closed the front door and leaned against it. Everyone was moving on with their lives while he had a pathetic crush on a woman who probably wasn’t even called Rose in real life.

He wondered what Rose’s real life was like. Was she married? Did she have a boyfriend or a girlfriend? Did she have children? Was she at home now making Sunday lunch for a large group of family and friends? If she was not called Rose then what was her real name? 

He needed to see her up close, he thought. He needed to be in one of the booths on the walkway. He pulled his phone from his pocket to look up the club and work out the cost of one of the coveted walkway booths.

*

“He’s booked a booth!” John greeted Roger excitedly on Wednesday evening as Roger arrived for his shift.

“Who has?” Roger wondered as he shrugged off his sodden coat. It was raining heavily. It had been raining heavily all week.

“Your Crystal Taylor,” John grinned. 

“He is not my Crystal Taylor,” Roger objected. “A walkway booth?” he queried. In theory any booth could be booked in advance but only the walkway booths had to be booked in advance. There was usually a waiting list for them.

John nodded. “Yes, a walkway booth.”

“When,” Roger wondered. He tried to ignore the little flutter of excitement he felt at the thought of Crystal Taylor wanting to see him so badly he had hired one of the walkway booths.

“Not next Monday but the next again,” John informed him. He grinned at Roger. “He offered to pay more to get a booth sooner but you know our policy on that! He has also taken the first available Saturday night reservation for a walkway booth which is in two months.”

Roger was not sure how he felt about that. “He’ll have got tired of coming here long before then,” he muttered. 

“If it bothers you then we can ban him,” John told him. “I can have a word with Miami and he’ll sort it.”

Roger shook his head. “He’s just another punter,” he said. “Thanks, though.”

It was not an entirely new situation, Roger reflected as he applied his make-up. He had attracted fans before. Some of them had become part of the select group he occasionally sat with. And despite his fame Crystal Taylor was a person. Roger had been with Brian when he was just an ordinary person and he had briefly been with him when Brian had become famous. Brian had still been an ordinary person but had been in the extraordinary position of having people recognise him and call out his name in the supermarket.

Roger had found himself elbowed aside by people who wanted a photo with Brian or to get Brian’s autograph, who wanted to touch Brian, who surprisingly often and rather alarmingly wanted to snip off a lock of Brian’s hair as a souvenir. They wanted to prove they had met him, Roger supposed, to prove they had been fleetingly in close proximity to someone famous. It was the fact that the would-be curl croppers always had little scissors about their persons that really amazed Roger.

He could understand why celebrities locked themselves away and moved in certain circles. Going to the shops meant risking coming back bald because all your hair had been snipped off by people with few, if any, boundaries. You were safer in a bubble, Roger thought, with people who knew how scary the world was outside of the bubble.

He thought Crystal Taylor must be very keen on Rose to venture outside of his world. The club attracted celebrity clients of course. They had a reputation for being discreet. The celebrities who came to the club existed in overlapping bubbles of security, however. They all knew each other and supported each other. Crystal was alone. He had never met Rose. He had not seen her up close. He had certainly never met Roger. What was it about Rose that made him want to come back? What was it about Crystal that gave Roger a little shiver of anticipation at the prospect of seeing him again?

*

“Have you met your girl yet?” Freddie asked Crystal on Friday as he deftly applied make-up to Crystal’s face.

“No,” Crystal replied. He tried very hard to leave it at that but found himself adding, “She doesn’t meet customers very often, apparently.”

Freddie grinned. “You haven’t given up, then?” 

“Do you think it’s a bit weird,” Crystal fretted, “that I’m obsessing about this girl I’ve never even spoken to? There’s just something about her... I feel like I’m meant to be with her.”

“Ooh, how romantic!” Freddie cooed, “You need to talk to her, darling. That might burst your bubble or it might be the start of something beautiful.”

Crystal snorted. “Well, I’m trying, but she’s proving very elusive!”

He was glad when Freddie changed the subject. “Have you heard, dear, Brian May will be on the Dominique show this Sunday,” he told Crystal. “I love Dominique,” Freddie sighed. He hastily added, “I prefer your show, of course, but Dom is such a strong woman.”

Crystal grinned. “I like her too,” he said. “We meet for drinks, sometimes. Come along next time and meet her. She’d love you, too.”

“Oh, I couldn’t, darling! I’d be a stuttering wreck! Do you trade interrogation techniques?” Freddie asked. 

“I have conversations with people, thank you very much! I don’t interrogate them! Dom tells me all the industry gossip. People tell her everything. She knows everyone’s secrets. If she wasn’t such a lovely person she could make a fortune out of blackmail,” Crystal informed Freddie. “I must watch her show this Sunday. I bet she makes him cry.”

*

Roger accompanied Miami and John up to their apartment after Sunday brunch. John had invited him to come and watch Brian confess all to Dominique on their large screen television. Roger had been delighted to accept but was now wondering if he spent too much time with John and Miami and if they would prefer more time alone. Did they ask him to join them because they felt sorry for him, single and broke as he was? “If you two would like time alone I can watch this at mine,” he offered. 

“Are you crazy?” John flung his arm around Roger’s shoulders. “Dom will ask about his first marriage. She’ll dissect his whole life. I want the lowdown on what really went on from the only other person who knows.” Anxiety flitted across John’s face. “I am joking,” he clarified. 

Roger smiled. “I’m a bit worried about what he’ll say,” he confessed to John. “I kind of feel like I don’t own that part of my life any longer – it has become public property. I wasn’t famous but people can still say anything they like about me and because I’m not famous I can’t give my side of the story.”

“Well, then,” John pulled Roger into a hug, “all the more reason for watching it with us.”

“I wonder where they film this,” Miami said as the leafy conservatory was shown. Dominique was sitting at the white wrought iron table that had afternoon tea set out on it. Brian May was sitting opposite her, looking too large for the chair he was perching on. “Perhaps we should move to a house, John. We could have a nice conservatory.”

“Mmm, perhaps,” John agreed. “Dom looks delectable, as always. Brian looks very uncomfortable.”

Roger silently thought that he was glad if Brian was uncomfortable. If he was about to talk about Roger then he ought to feel uncomfortable. I am a real person Roger reminded himself, not a peripheral character in Brian’s life story. Except for Brian that was probably exactly what Roger was. He was a minor character in Brian’s tale. He supposed he was a minor character in everyone’s story or at best the cheerful side-kick. Would he ever be someone’s leading man?

“I love Dom’s accent,” Roger murmured as, on the screen, Dominique launched into her opening remarks. She poured tea at the same time which Roger thought might be the height of sophistication. 

The first few questions related to Brian’s childhood. For some of the stars Dominique interviewed the childhood tales were the most heartbreaking. Brian’s upbringing was very ordinary in comparison and Dominique swiftly moved on, mentioning how bright Brian was at school and how he had studied at university. “Why did you decide to devote yourself to writing?” she asked. 

“It was a very difficult decision,” Roger said solemnly, seconds before Brian said exactly the same thing on screen. 

John gave a little yelp of laughter. “You’ve heard this before, then?”

Roger grinned. “Oh, I shouldn’t laugh,” he said, “It was difficult for him. His dad wanted him to use his degree.”

On screen Brian was explaining this to Dominique. She nodded sympathetically. “And you fell in love around this time, didn’t you?” she asked. 

Brian shifted uncomfortably on the dainty chair he was sitting on. He sipped some tea from the delicate tea cup in front of him. Roger realised he was holding his breath.

“Yes,” Brian nodded. He gave a little nervous laugh. “My parents weren’t happy about that either.”

“Why not?” Dominique asked.

“Roger was...” Brian halted.

Roger was what, Roger wondered. He felt John’s arm curve around his shoulders and was grateful. 

“Well,” Brian sighed, “he was too male, for a start. My parents would have preferred it if I had been more conventional. They were much more comfortable with my second marriage.”

Dominique nodded. She sipped her tea but did not speak. “I like it when she does this,” Miami remarked, “when she waits for her victim to fill the silence.”

Brian sipped more tea. The tea cup audibly rattled in the saucer when he set the cup down. “Shaky hands,” John noted. 

“Roger was...” Brian started. Then he lapsed into silence again. Dominique prettily nibbled on a cake and continued to wait. 

“Roger was what?” Roger muttered irritably. “Go on, Bri, tell me who I am!”

Brian said that he had never met anyone like Roger before. “He seemed so alive,” Brian told Dom. “That sounds silly, of course everyone is alive but Roger was so enthusiastic about everything, y’ know? He seemed to enjoy everything more than other people. He was always so sunny.”

“He makes it sound like I’m dead,” Roger grumbled. 

John squeezed Roger’s shoulder. “You’re still sunny and enthusiastic and very much alive,” he assured Roger. 

On screen Brian was telling Dom that his parents had refused to meet Roger. “They thought being in love with a man was wrong and they thought it was a phase I was going through. They didn’t come to our wedding. I found that very difficult.”

*

“Is this Roger famous too?” Freddie wondered, glancing at Crystal.

Crystal shrugged. “I’ve never heard of him,” he said. “Well, I did read that Brian had been married before when I was researching him for our interview but there wasn’t very much about his first marriage.”

He had asked Freddie over to watch the interview with Dominique with him. They were sprawling on Crystal’s sofa sharing a bottle of wine. “Ben described Brian as straight-laced once and I suppose if he was brought up in a strict conventional household that might be how he ended up that way.”

On screen Dominique was asking Brian how Roger had felt about Brian’s parents refusing to attend their wedding and their disapproval of the relationship. Brian looked slightly startled. “I’m not sure we really discussed it.”

“And that’s why that relationship bit the dust,” Freddie commented, swigging some wine.

Crystal grinned. “You don’t think he cheated on this one too, then?”

“Ooh, maybe! If so, we shall find out, dear. Dominique always gets all the dirt!” Freddie laughed.

Brian was spluttering that Roger had been a carefree soul who had not really worried about what others thought. “He was a free spirit,” he concluded, shifting uneasily in his chair.

“Roger supported you financially as well as emotionally while you were writing the first book in the Evidence series, didn’t he?” Dominique asked. 

“Ooh and then got cheated on or jettisoned,” Freddie gasped. “Poor little free spirit!”

Brian moved to pick up his tea cup and knocked it over, spilling tea everywhere. It dripped through the gaps created by the intricate ironwork on the table top. Dominique calmly mopped the tea up with a napkin. Brian was apologising profusely. 

“He’s a nervous wreck, isn’t he?” Crystal noted. “I’m surprised he agreed to do this show. You’d think he would have realised it would be like this, wouldn’t you?”

“Perhaps he’s one of the unenlightened few who don’t watch the show,” Freddie sniffed. “If he spilt the tea on purpose to get out of answering that question then he doesn’t know Dom!”

Indeed, on screen, Dominique was now calmly repeating the question. Brian nodded. “It was his choice,” he said defensively, “I didn’t force him to do anything. He was training to be a dentist but he wasn’t enjoying the course anyway so he dropped out and got a job so he could support me.”

“He gave up a career for you!” Freddie shouted at the screen.

Crystal nodded. “Brian isn’t covering himself with glory here, is he?”

*

“I can’t imagine you as a dentist,” John remarked. He smoothed Roger’s hair. “Are you okay?”

Roger nodded. “I would never have completed the course anyway,” he told John. “I quickly realised it wasn’t the job for me. I did always think I’d maybe go back and study something else later on but of course that never happened.”

“It isn’t too late,” Miami told him.

Roger was about to say that he wasn’t sure he would be able to go back to studying anything now when he heard Dominique speak on screen, saying, “Roger worked in a strip club to support you, didn’t he?”

“Oh,” Roger muttered, “they found that out.” He buried his face in John’s shoulder as John wrapped both arms around him. “I’m not often grateful for being an orphan but at least I don’t have any family to be upset by that.”

On screen Brian snapped, “Yes, he did. He wanted to.”

“I tried to get other jobs. Respectable ones,” Roger told John and Miami. He disentangled himself from John and wiped his eyes, surprised to find they were wet. Miami offered him a handkerchief. “Thank you. But I had no real work experience so no one wanted me.”

“You don’t have to explain to us,” Miami said gently. “Believe it or not I used to work as a stripper,” he added.

“Did you?” Roger asked.

Miami nodded. “That’s how I got into this business.”

“I asked for a job as a barman in a club and they offered me a job as a stripper instead,” Roger explained. 

*

“How did you feel about the work Roger was doing?” Dominique asked. “He was having sex with other men, was he not?”

“Forced into a life of prostitution by his selfish spouse,” Freddie gasped.

“No, he was not having sex with other men!” Brian snapped. “He took his clothes off for money. I was very grateful for that money.”

“And then Roger was attacked,” Dominique continued in her soft voice, “and he couldn’t work, could he? But by then your first book had been published.”

“He stopped working after my first book was published, yes,” Brian agreed. “We didn’t have a lot of money but we were happy.”

Crystal snorted. “It doesn’t sound particularly idyllic for this poor sap he was married to,” he observed.

Freddie nodded, sipping his wine. “Attacked,” he murmured, “and the poor little free spirit had to stop working. So he was presumably quite badly injured? And Brian is going to break free from him any minute now once he has no further use for him.”

“Did you feel Roger was resentful about how much he had given up for you?” Dominique asked. “Was he jealous of your success?”

*

“No I bloody wasn’t!” Roger shouted at the television. Brian shook his head and Roger nodded. “Yeah, you tell her, Bri.”

“Roger was always very sweet,” Brian told Dominique. “He was very excited when the book was published. He was my biggest fan at that point. He remained very optimistic and positive despite... Well, despite what happened to him.”

*

“What did happen to him?” Freddie demanded. Crystal topped up his glass and he drank from it. “Thank you, darling.”

“Roger sounds too bloody good for Brian, frankly. I hope he’s having the time of his life now,” Crystal said.

*

“You were attacked?” John asked, keeping his voice very gentle. 

Roger nodded. “It was a long time ago,” he said, trying to inject some brightness into his tone. “I’m fine now.”

“If you need to talk then we’re here,” Miami told him.

Roger’s eyes filled with tears. “Thank you, both of you.”

“The books were very successful,” Dominique noted, “and after the fourth book was published work began on the television adaptation which you were very involved in, weren’t you?”

Brian nodded. “I think that was the beginning of the end for my relationship with Roger,” he sighed. “I was working away a lot. I was working long hours. I think we just grew apart.”

“You were seeing your co-star, were you not?” Dominique asked. “You were having an affair on set with the actor who played the villain of the first book.”

*

“Oh, you utter bastard!” Freddie exclaimed. “Sweet Roger who has never resented your success and has changed his entire life for you is sitting at home being all thrilled about your exciting new project and you are fucking the literal villain of the piece!”

Crystal laughed. “Let’s face it Roger is better off out of it.”

*

Roger snorted. “Well, I can’t say I’m surprised,” he muttered. “Will he deny it?” he wondered.

They watched as Brian hung his head. “Yes,” he confessed. “I’m not proud of that. I got a bit carried away with the thrill of it all and I made a mistake.”

John and Miami both put their arms around him. “You’re well rid of him,” Miami growled.

“We should’ve just stayed friends,” Roger said sadly. “He’s a very warm and kind person,” he added. “I’m sorry we didn’t remain friends.”

John made an unimpressed noise. “Yes, well, we’ll take your word for it that he’s really lovely,” he said, “but I’m not particularly thrilled about how he treated you.”

On the television Dominique was saying, “In fact, you had a series of relationships at this time, didn’t you?”

Brian shifted uncomfortably in his chair. “Um...”

“Oh,” Roger breathed, “that looks like a yes. He must have thought I was such a fool.”

*

Dominique was waiting again. “She oozes class,” Freddie sighed. “Oh, come on Brian, just admit it! We all now know you’ve cheated on your sweet little husband so does it matter how many people you fucked?”

“It probably mattered to his husband,” Crystal pointed out mildly. 

“Uh- I uh- I don’t think Roger realised I was seeing other people,” Brian gulped, squirming in his seat. “I uh- I truly didn’t mean to hurt him. He wasn’t part of that scene, y’ know? I didn’t think he would ever find out. I mean, he didn’t find out while we were married. That doesn’t make it any better, of course. I shouldn’t have done it. I’m very ashamed of having done that to Roggie. Uh- but yes, I saw a few people. I saw a few people and it made me wonder if...”

“What did you wonder, Brian?” Dominique asked. 

Freddie snorted. “It made him wonder if he should ditch Roggie and move on,” he muttered.

Crystal nodded. “I’m not making excuses for Brian,” he began. Freddie rolled his eyes. “Really, I’m not, but it is hard when you first kind of realise you’ve become famous. You’re surrounded by people who hang on your every word and you suddenly have assistants who cater to your every need. You seem to be adored. It’s an illusion, of course, all false but it would be very easy to start believing that you are actually special and that you do actually deserve better. When he says he got carried away I know what he means.”

“Well, I wouldn’t know about that, dear,” Freddie pointed out. He was tapping at his phone and gasped dramatically. “I found a picture of them! Roger was gorgeous! Look!”

Crystal obediently looked at the picture of a younger Brian with his arm around a beautiful blond. Roger looked vaguely familiar but Crystal couldn’t place him. “I liked Brian when I met him,” Crystal told Freddie, “but he is clearly an idiot.”

*

“It made me wonder if I could do better than Roger,” Brian muttered. His voice was so low it was barely audible.

Miami and John both shouted in unison at the television that Brian could not have done any better than Roger. Roger bit his bottom lip anxiously. He had realised that everyone would be watching this. Dominique was always compulsive viewing and Dominique interviewing Brian May following his revelations on the Crystal Taylor show was a must-see event. And everyone who knew Roger was likely to work out that he was the idiot first husband. They would all know he was the fool who had been blind to the fact that his husband had been having multiple affairs.

“I am very ashamed of that,” Brian whispered. “Roger was my best friend and he was the best husband I could possibly have had. I think we married too young. If I’m being honest I think maybe we shouldn’t have married at all – we were great friends but I think perhaps not great as a married couple – but I treated him very badly and I’m very ashamed of that.”

“How did the relationship end?” Dominique asked.

Brian was squirming again. “Uh- Well- Uh- I told Roger I thought it would be best if we separated. He uh- He took it hard...”

John hugged Roger fiercely. “That man did not deserve you,” he said. 

“It was a long time ago,” Roger muttered, “I just wish it wasn’t all being dragged up now. I feel people are gonna look at me like I’m an idiot.”

“I really don’t think people are going to judge you harshly,” Miami assured Roger.

“How were you an idiot?” John cried. “You were trusting and supportive and lovely and Brian was a complete dick! And that’s how everyone’s going to see it, Rog.”

*

The rest of Brian’s story was more familiar to them. Brian spoke frankly about his marriage and his relationship with Ben. He spoke movingly about the miscarriage. “I would very much like to hate him,” Freddie sighed, “but he is just a flawed human.”

“Yeah,” Crystal agreed. “We’ve all done things we’re ashamed of and most of us don’t have to broadcast our mistakes to the world.”

*

Crystal was surprised to receive a message the following day inviting him to dinner with Ben and Brian on Saturday. He accepted, partly because he was curious about how Brian felt the interview with Dominique had gone. The show had got record ratings and everyone was talking about it. There was a lot of sympathy for Brian’s first husband but the consensus of opinion seemed to be that Brian had handled the interview well.

He overheard someone commenting that Brian’s first husband had clearly been little better than a whore and Brian had been right to ditch him. “Can you imagine if he was saddled with a tart now? Having a stripper on his arm at red carpet events?” 

Crystal wondered if Rose heard comments like this. He wondered how she had arrived at her current job. It sounded like where she worked now was an improvement on where she had worked before but he didn’t imagine it was a career most people chose. Being famous was a little like that, Crystal thought. He had found himself famous by accident really and he suspected a lot of people drifted into roles they had not actively pursued. Crystal enjoyed his job but he did not particularly enjoy the fame that went with it. Did Rose enjoy what she did? She looked genuinely happy when she was on the walkway. Was that an act?

He was not going to visit the club again until the date he had secured a walkway booth. It would do him good to wait he had decided. He only had to wait for a week. Next Monday he would see Rose again. 

It felt like the longest week of Crystal’s life.

By the time Saturday came he was grateful he’d agreed to have dinner with Ben and Brian as he thought he would have cracked and gone to the club otherwise. A little voice in his head told him he could still go to the club after he’d had dinner but he was determined not to do that. He wanted to see Rose from the walkway booth so much that he felt if he went to the club before then he would ruin the experience. He would jinx it somehow. He would not be able to go for some reason or Rose would not be there for some reason. Another little voice in his head warned him that this obsession was unhealthy. 

Ben opened the door to Crystal. “Hey, good to see you, come in out of the rain,” he smiled, accepting the bottle of wine Crystal was offering him. “This looks very nice, thank you.” He curved his arm around Crystal’s shoulders. “Come through. I thought we could eat in the kitchen.”

Ben and Crystal had never moved in together. Brian had moved into Ben’s house and Crystal found it odd being in such familiar surroundings but seeing occasional flashes of Brian’s arrival. There were unfamiliar coats in the coat cupboard. A new photograph of Brian and Ben hung in the hall. Brian was sitting in the chair Crystal had always taken at the kitchen table, which jolted him. Crystal supposed these jarring reminders that Ben had replaced him were the price to be paid for trying to remain on friendly terms with a former lover. 

Brian rose to greet Crystal as Ben steered him into the room. Crystal was enveloped in a slightly awkward hug. “It’s lovely to have you here,” Brian told him. 

Crystal was surprised by how easily they slipped into good-natured conversation. He had not expected to find the evening so enjoyable. He had decided early on that he would not bring up the subject of the Dominique interview and risk ruining things so he was surprised when Brian mentioned it.

They had been comparing notes about the weirdest messages they had received from fans and Brian blurted out, “My ex-husband, Roger, sent an email via the fan club. My assistant forwarded it to me earlier today.”

Ben looked surprised and then concerned. “Bri, love, are you okay?”

Brian nodded. “He had seen my interview with Dominique and I guess that was the only way he could think of to contact me.”

Crystal felt uncomfortable being present for this conversation and was ashamed that part of him was keen to know what Roger had said. “Perhaps I ought to leave,” he suggested. 

“No, please don’t go,” Brian requested, “I’m sorry. I didn’t intend to make you feel awkward.”

Ben reached over and squeezed Brian’s shoulder. “What did Roger say?” he asked. “He wasn’t abusive, was he?” Ben glanced at Crystal. “Most of Bri’s messages since the interviews have been supportive but there have been a few nasty ones.”

“No, no,” Brian hastened to assure them, “Roger was very sweet really. He said he was sorry to hear about the miscarriage. He said he was glad I’d found you, Ben. He also said that he realises I have no control over what questions I’m asked in interviews but he would appreciate it if I’d say as little as possible about him, if asked.”

Ben nodded. “Well, that’s fair enough, I suppose.”

“Did Roger’s family accept your marriage?” Crystal wondered. He’d been thinking about this ever since the interview with Dominique had been broadcast. 

Brian shook his head. “He doesn’t have any family. His parents both died in a car crash when he was little. An elderly great-aunt raised him but she died a couple of years before I met him.”

Crystal silently supposed that at least Brian hadn’t accidentally let slip to Roger’s unsuspecting family that he had worked as a stripper. Then he felt bad for thinking that. Dominique carried out meticulous research and he was sure she would not have raised any subjects that would make an innocent person’s life difficult. He still felt slightly sorry for Roger. He was not sure why he had felt so intrigued about Roger since he had seen the interview. Perhaps it was because he had looked so frustratingly familiar in the photo Freddie had found of Roger with Brian. Crystal had no idea how he could have come across Roger but he felt as if he had.

Ben sipped some wine. He looked as if he was trying to make his mind up about something. “Bri, don’t answer this if it’s too difficult,” Ben started, sounding slightly hesitant, “but I was wondering what happened to Roger? Dominique mentioned an attack?”

Brian sighed. “It was my fault,” he began. His voice wobbled. “I always walked Rog home from work. The club was in a dodgy area and so was our flat. But that night I...”

“If it’s too difficult for you to tell us then please don’t feel you have to,” Ben murmured. 

“No,” Brian took a deep breath, “it’s okay. I fell asleep that night. I was late going to meet Rog. I always waited for him to come out of the side door the staff used but when I arrived there he...” Brian paused and took a slug of his wine. “He had already been attacked. He had been beaten up and they had tried to... Well, they were disturbed so... It could have been worse. But he had panic attacks. He couldn’t return to the club. He couldn’t work there.”

“That’s awful,” Ben murmured.

Crystal nodded. “Yeah, that’s really rough.” He thought of the beautiful blond in the photo with Brian, smiling and looking carefree. 

“When we split up I was worried he would have trouble finding work he could do,” Brian sighed. “At the time, though, it was like being on a speeding train. I was hurtling towards the television show and a whole new life and Roger was still on the station platform.”

Like a forgotten umbrella, Crystal thought sourly. “Perhaps he went back to college,” he suggested.

Brian shook his head. “I mean, maybe, and I would like that to have happened but he wasn’t in a very good place emotionally when he left.”

Ben frowned. “I didn’t realise he left you.”

Brian took another slug of wine and shifted uncomfortably in his chair. “I asked him to leave, actually. I found it too difficult to be with him knowing I’d slept with other people.”

Crystal stared at Brian. “He had no job and no family to turn to and you asked him to leave?” he asked incredulously. Not to mention, he thought, the fact that Roger had apparently not been in a good place emotionally. 

“It was selfish of me, I know,” Brian muttered. 

“That’s history,” Ben snapped, adding in a softer tone, “Brian’s not that person now.”

“I’d like to think I wouldn’t do that now,” Brian agreed, “I would like to see Roger, actually, and apologise to him in person. I doubt he will agree to meet me but I think I will ask him.”

“Have you replied to his email yet?” Ben asked, looking worried.

“No,” Brian shook his head. “I will need to carefully consider what to say to him.”

To change the subject Crystal mentioned that it was good that the response to Brian’s appearances on his show and Dominique’s show had been mainly positive. Brian nodded. “I got lots of nice messages after your show. It has been more mixed since the Dominique interview. I wish I hadn’t agreed to that. It was one of the most nerve-wracking things I’ve ever done.”

Crystal grinned. “Yeah, she’s relentless. I always think the cruellest part is that the guest never gets to eat their cake.”

Brian laughed. “They give you a box of cake when you’re leaving,” he informed Crystal. “But I’m not sure it quite makes up for the ordeal!”

*

Freddie arrived on Sunday so they could watch the Dominique show together again. “Have you been back to the club to sigh over Rose, darling?” Freddie asked as they curled up on the sofa.

Crystal flushed as he confessed to Freddie that he would be at the club the following evening in one of the coveted walkway booths. “What?” Freddie shrieked. “Why am I only hearing about this now, Christopher? What are you planning to wear? I’ll help you get ready. I wish I could come and see this Rose for myself.”

“Um,” Crystal gulped some wine. “You can come, if you like?”

“I’ll cramp your style,” Freddie ventured.

Crystal shook his head. “I’m a bit nervous about being in one of those very conspicuous booths all on my own. I’d like the company to be honest. It’d be my treat, of course.”

“In that case, darling, I’d love to. Now, we must decide what you should wear...”

*

It was still raining. It always seemed to be raining. Roger sighed. He didn’t want to get his hair wet. He wanted the best possible hair today. Tonight was the night Crystal Taylor was going to be in one of the walkway booths.

It was ridiculous to be nervous about doing what he did every night. It was silly to want to look better and to dance better tonight than he did on any other night. It was absurd to want things to go perfectly today. He had apparently impressed Crystal Taylor already. Yet he wanted to live up to his expectations tonight. If only he had any idea what Crystal Taylor expected. 

Mondays were quieter nights. People were aghast at how much they had spent at the weekend and were weary from toiling at work all day so they went home and relaxed there. Roger liked Mondays. The Friday and Saturday crowd were a mix of people who wanted to dance, people who wanted to drink and people who wanted to leer at the dancers. The Monday to Wednesday people tended to be serious about dancing. Sunday and Thursday nights seemed to attract wealthy students. Roger liked the dancers best, his kindred spirits.

He had spent more time than usual selecting what Rose should wear. He told himself he was simply checking his outfit options as some of them were becoming too worn and would need to be replaced. It had nothing at all to do with wanting to look good for Crystal Taylor. 

He had also spent a great deal of time wondering if he should enter the booths. He had eventually confessed his uncertainty about this to John, needing the opinion of someone he trusted. 

John had considered this carefully. “You don’t normally do that,” he noted, “and when you do you are normally with people who have been to the club many times whom you have observed and decided are not a threat. Yet you feel you might change your way of working for a man who has been to the club twice so far?”

“When you put it like that it seems silly,” Roger said.

“Perhaps it means your instinct is to trust Crystal Taylor,” John said, “and perhaps you should listen to your instincts.”

“Maybe,” Roger nodded, “but do I trust him because I watch him on television and think I know him? Is it an illusion? Are my instincts to be trusted when they are about someone famous?”

“If he’s really keen and he isn’t a creep then he’ll wait,” John had noted.

Roger had still not decided what to do. He was not sure what to make of the fact that Crystal had not returned to the club since booking the walkway booths. The booths were expensive though and maybe even someone rumoured to be a millionaire didn’t want to spend all of their money in Miami’s club.

*

“Ooh, very swish, isn’t it?” Freddie breathed, twirling around in the entrance hall of the club.

“Would you like a drink in the piano bar first?” Crystal offered. His stomach was turning somersaults and he was not sure if he would feel better if they plunged straight into the club or if he had a drink first.

“Yes, please, dear,” Freddie beamed, “I’ll probably never be here again!”

The piano bar was designed to be soothing. A pianist played relaxing music. Fairy-lights provided a soft glow. The patrons kept their voices low in conversation producing a comforting murmur of noise. The barman had a soft Irish accent. His name badge announced that he was called Jim. 

Crystal sipped his champagne and felt the bubbles burst on his tongue. “Cheers,” Freddie said, chiming his glass against Crystal’s glass, “here’s to us, darling, and to finding our true loves!”

The vault door impressed Freddie too. “I do like it here, dear,” he told Crystal as the door swung open and admitted them to the club.


	2. He would stare into those eyes and then vacation in her gaze

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter title from Episode of Blonde/Peroxide Side by Elvis Costello.

“He has a friend with him,” John reported to Roger, leaning against the dressing room door.

“A friend,” Roger echoed. “A friend or a lover?” he wondered. He felt a little pang of disappointment.

“We are pretty sure they are friends,” John informed him. “They are in Mary’s booth and she says they have not shown any signs of romantic affection so far. Her verdict is that they are good friends.”

Had Crystal brought a friend along for moral support, Roger wondered. Or was his companion his lover and they were avoiding public displays of affection in case news of their relationship leaked to the press? Fame was a complicating factor.

At the bottom of the stairs leading up to the walkway Roger felt a little flutter of anticipation. The light on the wall next to him turned from red to green to indicate that he was on. The previous song segued into a different piece of music and he bounced up the steps and twirled onto the walkway. 

*

“Oh, she’s fabulous, dear!” Freddie shouted to Crystal as Rose appeared.

Crystal nodded, too overcome with emotion to speak. He craned forward over the table top to get a better view of her as she moved along the walkway, as she came closer to them.

Her hair fell in soft waves around her face. She had a dreamy expression on her face as if she was in a world of her own. She seemed somehow simultaneously larger and smaller than Crystal had expected. 

*

Roger had yet to decide if he was going to enter the booths. If he entered one he would have to enter the other too. There was no rule about this and he would not get into trouble if he only entered one booth but there was the potential to cause trouble with the customers if they saw a dancer favouring the group on the other side of the walkway from them and there was an unspoken agreement that the dancers would not do this.

Roger could see Crystal Taylor now sitting sipping a cocktail with a very beautiful man Roger didn’t recognise. He glanced at the other booth and saw that a group of four women were occupying it. They all looked vaguely familiar and he assumed they were famous. They were jiggling to the music and laughing.

Almost without thinking Roger found himself twirling his arms above his head in the gesture that alerted the security staff to the fact that he had decided to dance into the booths.

*

A large security guard appeared at the top of the spiral staircase that led up to the booth. The guard moved close and said, “Gentlemen, when Rose enters the booth please remain seated. Do not touch her.”

Crystal nodded to show that he understood. Other dancers had entered the booth and while the guard had materialised at the top of the staircase he had not issued any instructions like these.

“May we tip her, dear?” Freddie asked.

“You may offer her money,” the guard informed him before retreating to the back of the booth.

*

Entering a booth meant that Roger was no longer in full view of the dancers on the floor of the club so he couldn’t linger too long out of sight. He spun into the booth the women were occupying first. They shrieked with delight and waved banknotes at him which he took, batting his eyelashes as he did so. He made a show of tucking the notes into his garter.

Back on the walkway he danced for the customers below for a moment before slinking into the other booth. He deliberately entered the side of the booth the unknown beauty was seated at and zig-zagged downwards shaking his hips until he could meet the man’s eyes. The man grinned and offered Roger a crisp fifty pound note. Roger blew him a kiss and tucked the note into his garter.

Then he shimmied along the table until he reached Crystal Taylor.

*

She was right there, her bright red lips slightly parted, her big blue eyes meeting his. Her scent surrounded him, something heady and floral - something rose based for a Rose, perhaps. “Rose,” he breathed.

She was suddenly much closer, perching on his knee solid and warm. She pressed her lips to his cheek then stood again.

Crystal reached for her unthinkingly, his fingers fastening around her wrist. He needed her to stay. He caught the flash of fear in her blue eyes just before the guard’s hand pushed him back, pinning him to the back of his seat. Rose had escaped and had already returned to the walkway.

“Sorry,” Crystal croaked to the security guard. He realised with dismay that he was still clutching her tip in his sweaty hand. “Oh! Her money!” he cried. The guard had already withdrawn however so he could not appeal to him to get the money to Rose.

Freddie patted his shoulder. “Don’t worry, dear, she will be back later, won’t she?”

Crystal shook his head. “I’ve scared her off.”

*

John and Miami were both waiting as Roger stumbled down the steps at the end of the walkway. John held out his arms and Roger flopped against him. John asked if he was okay as Miami simultaneously asked if Roger would like him to have Crystal Taylor unceremoniously ejected from the club.

“I’m fine,” Roger snuffled, “And please don’t throw him out, Miami. He didn’t mean to startle me.”

He had wanted to keep Roger there, in that charged moment when the air had seemed to crackle with electricity as if they were in the midst of a storm. Roger had felt it too. It had terrified him and attracted him in equal measure and he understood why Crystal had tried to hold on to him.

“If you change your mind, let me know,” Miami said.

John stayed with Roger as he prepared for his next dance. “Are you going to enter the booths again?” John asked.

Roger sighed. “I don’t know,” he replied, “I was really enjoying it but...” 

*

Crystal begged their waitress, Mary according to her name badge, to let Rose know he was sorry that he had grabbed her wrist. “Please, please, tell her how mortified I am. I need her to know I’m sorry.”

Mary sighed. “Sir, I can’t go backstage.”

“Please, won’t you make an exception just this once?” Crystal pleaded.

She sighed again. “I’m not making any promises,” she warned him. 

Crystal gulped some of his cocktail. He was being silly, he knew. Rose was a stranger. For all he knew she was happily married with ten kids and giggling about the pathetic loser with the receding hairline who was lusting after her.

*

Mary looked appalled when she saw John with Roger. “Pretend I’m not here,” John advised her, adding, eyes glinting, “Do you have a message from Mr Taylor for Rog?”

“He’s so apologetic about grabbing you,” Mary told Roger. “He’s really distressed about it.” She glanced at John. “And I know I shouldn’t have left my post but I felt so sorry for him.” She glanced at John again and hurried off. 

“You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to do,” John reminded Roger.

Roger was about to reply when a voice behind them said, “You don’t have to go back out there at all if you’d rather not, Roggie.” He turned and saw Miami flanked by the twins, Cara and Tara who always danced together. “Cara and Tara will go on instead of you, if you wish. Or they can go on with you, if you would prefer that. That would give you more time in the booths if you wanted.”

Roger grinned. “Thank you, all of you. Um- I think I’d like them with me, please.”

*

“Ooh, you’d better behave, darling, she’s brought reinforcements,” Freddie noted, “She’ll set the twins on you if you’re naughty.”

“Fuck off,” Crystal said sweetly. He watched slightly apprehensively as Rose and her companions advanced towards them.

The twins exploded into the booth before Rose, draping themselves over Freddie and Crystal. The one in Crystal’s lap tapped his cheek where Rose had kissed him. “I see you’ve been claimed, honey.”

*

Roger twirled his hands above his head to signal that he was going to enter the booths again. The twins twisted rhythmically towards him in spooky unison and fluttered their hands in the dancer’s sign to indicate good tips and not too much groping.

Roger swirled into the all women booth and smiled at them as he moved slowly around the table. They all gave him more cash.

The twins had halted in the centre of the walkway to entertain the mass of people on the dance floor below them. Roger exited the all women booth and headed for Crystal Taylor’s booth and as he did so the twins writhed around him. They ran their hands over him and spun him around, depositing him at the entrance to the booth.

They had left him at the entrance Crystal was sitting closest to. Roger took a deep breath. Perhaps starting with Crystal would be best. Roger paused on the step that led down to the booth and found he was frozen in place. The lights washed over him. The music throbbed. His breath hitched.

*

Rose had halted at the entrance to the booth. Crystal glanced around for the security guard but he was absent in an appalling breach of his duties that Crystal considered to be a clear sacking offence. He ought to be there to assist Rose. Crystal was scared to move in case he distressed her. He could not just leave her stranded. He looked helplessly at Freddie.

“Rosie, darling!” Freddie called. She looked up, blinking at them. “That’s right, dear,” Freddie encouraged her, “Come over here and see me.”

Rose wobbled around the table. Freddie shifted along the padded seat to allow her to sit down. “There, darling,” he soothed her, “Crystal didn’t mean to frighten you, dear.”

“I’m very sorry,” Crystal called anxiously across Freddie.

Rose nodded jerkily and stood up again abruptly. “Wait, darling,” Freddie cried, “You must take your tips!” He held out a note to her and gestured impatiently towards Crystal who thrust money into Freddie’s hand which he also held out towards Rose.

Rose shook her head. “I haven’t danced for you,” she croaked in a deliciously husky voice. Crystal adored her voice. Part of his mind was already thinking about other things she might say in that wonderful rasp.

“Please take it,” Crystal urged her.

Their eyes met and Rose accepted the money from Freddie, tucking the notes into her garter. She spun around and burst back onto the walkway as if nothing had happened to interrupt her flow. 

*

The dressing room was full of flowers. “Where did these come from?” Roger asked as he entered.

“They’re all for you,” one of the other dancers told him with a smile. “There’s a card...” She indicated the card. “In fact, you’ve got a couple of cards. One came with the flowers and one arrived separately.”

Roger was glad that the others drifted out of the room to give him some privacy to open the cards. The flowers were from Crystal Taylor. The card read: I’m so sorry I upset you yesterday. Please accept my humble apologies and warmest wishes.

Roger opened the other envelope and discovered a piece of scrap paper that had part of a shopping list on one side. Milk, bog roll, eggs, tea-bags. Roger turned the piece of paper over and found a message that read: Dear Rose, I’m very sorry I don’t seem to have any proper writing paper and if I wait until I buy some I’ll lose my nerve and I need to tell you how very sorry I am for distressing you yesterday. Grabbing you like that was disgusting and unforgiveable and I am so ashamed of my actions. I think you are wonderful and I hope I have not upset you too badly. Kindest Regards, Crystal. 

Roger grinned. He slipped the note back into the envelope and laughter bubbled out of him as happiness rose in him like the sun soaring into the sky. 

*

“Darling, really, what were you thinking?” Freddie chided Crystal on Friday night as he dusted powder over Crystal’s face. “You can’t woo someone with a love letter written on a bit of scrap paper you fished out of the bin!”

“I didn’t fish it out of the bin!” Crystal protested, “And it wasn’t a love letter. It was an apology.”

“That’s just as bad if not worse!” Freddie exclaimed. “Nothing says sorry like a scribbled note on a bit of paper that screams afterthought. Honestly, dear, why didn’t you ask my advice?”

Crystal squirmed in the chair. “I felt it was important to send it right away,” he mumbled.

“I need you to promise me that you will always check with me first before you make any romantic gestures in future, dear. Even if it is in the middle of the night,” Freddie commanded.

Crystal nodded. “Yes, Sir!” he said, saluting Freddie. 

Freddie glared at him. “Have you heard anything from her?” he wondered. 

Crystal’s face fell. He shook his head.

*

They had only aired a couple of shows previously where there was only one guest. The guests had to be mega-stars to warrant a whole show devoted to them.

Tonight’s guest now went by the name of Soul – or perhaps Sole, Crystal had read everything he could find about his guest – and he could find a lot – but no one seemed to agree on the change of name. His guest, when asked about this, invariably answered, “Names don’t matter, man. Labels don’t matter.”

Soul had done many things in his time from being a painter and decorator to winning a talent show and making a couple of albums as a singer then acting in a few films. He had then had an astonishingly successful art exhibition and was now regarded as a rising star in the art world.

His latest work of art had offended Christian groups by mentioning God in the title and Soul had received death threats. The painting looked like wavy lines on a large canvas to Crystal. The colours were nice but it reminded Crystal more of a particularly abstract depiction of waves than anything to do with religion. It was not the painting itself that had offended people, however, it was the title combined with Soul’s claim that he had received a message from “an ethereal being, man, an alien, if you will” instructing him to produce his masterpiece.

“He’s clearly gone completely gaga,” Crystal’s producer had said happily. “It’ll be excellent television.”

Crystal wasn’t so sure. If Soul was unwell Crystal did not think he should be exploited on television nor did he think it would be entertaining viewing. His objections were overruled, however. He had briefly considered refusing to interview Soul but he was concerned about who would be drafted in instead of him and how they might treat Soul. The interview would proceed either way. 

He waited for the laughter to die down following his opening remarks. Then he launched into a description of Soul’s career so far. The audience clapped politely but did not seem wildly enthusiastic which didn’t bode well for a show with only one guest on it.

Soul was wiry, his long hair tied in a pony-tail. He perched on the edge of the sofa as if poised for flight. The voice in Crystal’s earpiece instructed him to “go straight to the aliens!”

Crystal had given this a lot of thought. He carefully mentioned that Soul’s latest artwork had been controversial. “It was inspired by a strange experience you had, wasn’t it? Can you tell us about that?”

*

The dancers had time off scheduled and it was one of Roger’s rest days. He was curled up on his bed eating fish and chips and watching the Crystal Taylor show. A trendy artist was explaining that he had been driving in the countryside, having needed to escape the city for a while. He had seen a little church standing alone, apparently unconnected to any village. Having felt drawn to the church he had parked the car and walked up to it. The door had been unlocked and he had entered. The church had been empty. “Only not really empty, man, cos there were all these carved angels on the walls, beautiful, they were.” Light had streamed through all of the stained glass windows on one side of the church. “Colours danced across the stone. It was so pretty, man, I could have watched it forever.” And then a beam of golden light had seemed to materialise in front of the artist. 

Roger sipped his beer. He was watching the show to see Crystal and had not expected to be as riveted by this tale as he was.

*

“So this golden column of light appeared,” Soul told Crystal, “and suddenly I could see the painting in my head. It just... It was there fully formed in my head from nowhere, man, y’ know?”

Crystal nodded although he didn’t know. He ignored the voice screaming through his earpiece that he should ask if this was the alien. “And you think the light was a being?” he asked.

Soul nodded. “I think it was an angel. It was something alien to this world, you know? Not of this world, man. And it gave me the image. I know people are going to think I’m crazy but I saw what I saw.”

“So you mean alien in the sense of something being different, outside of the norm?” Crystal clarified. Soul nodded. “Did you hear any words?” 

Soul shook his head. “It just gave me the image, man, no words. It felt warm, though. Not hot, I don’t mean that, but comforting. Like a mug of hot chocolate or a hug. It was a beautiful experience and I feel blessed, you know?”

*

The artist had apparently tried to find the church again later on but had never managed to locate it again. It was a good story and Roger thought he proved a surprisingly entertaining guest once Crystal moved on to other subjects. Crystal was good at teasing amusing anecdotes out of guests though, Roger thought fondly.

He wondered if Crystal had tired of Rose now. Would he come back to the club? If he did Roger thought he might take a chance on sitting in a booth with him. 

*

Amongst the messages of congratulations was a message from Ben asking Crystal to have lunch with Brian and him the following day. Crystal agreed and then immediately regretted it. The show had been exhausting and he wanted to relax on Saturday. He could not think of a plausible excuse, however, and he felt it was too fragile a relationship to allow plans to be re-arranged without feelings being hurt. Was it worth it, he wondered? It might be the mature thing to do – to remain on good terms with your ex – but part of him felt it was too much effort. 

At least if they met for lunch he could go to the club in the evening, a little voice in his head whispered. 

*

They had lunch in a restaurant. Crystal had not been there before. It was small and quiet and the food was good. Crystal sipped wine and listened as Ben regaled them with a funny story about the show he was currently working on. 

“I enjoyed your show last night,” Brian told Crystal. “I didn’t think Soul would be so entertaining.”

“Thanks,” Crystal said. “I wasn’t in favour of him being the only guest but it worked out okay.”

“The groups that were harassing him now seem to be treating him as a hero,” Ben grinned, “so you’ve helped him in that regard at least!”

Crystal grinned. “I’m glad. He’s a nice bloke. He was surprisingly down to earth.”

*

The club was crowded. Crystal lurked in a booth at the back of the room. He watched Rose spin along the walkway. She did not enter the walkway booths tonight. He realised that he had never seen her do that apart from when he had been in the walkway booth with Freddie.

The booth juddered slightly as someone came up the staircase. The waitress did not usually make the staircase shudder so Crystal assumed there had been some kind of staff change and was surprised when a large security guard appeared and moved silently to the side of the booth. He was followed by Rose.

Crystal stood up and then sat quickly as the guard growled at him that he should sit down. Rose smiled at him. She had a beautiful smile. She slid onto the seat next to him and reached behind her to press a button on the wall that Crystal had not noticed until now.

The booth walls were normally transparent but now shutters curved around the walls for privacy. There was also a notable reduction in the noise level. “Soundproofing,” Rose explained with a grin.

Crystal smiled stupidly at her. He felt slightly overwhelmed by her proximity. Her perfume was different tonight, a fresh citrus scent. “Hi,” he said.

“Hi,” she replied, looking amused.

Crystal could not think of a single thing to say. His brain was registering the soft pink of her lips, the sparkling blue of her eyes and how soft her hair looked. His job revolved around asking people questions and coaxing answers out of them that revealed who they were but he could not think of a single thing to say to Rose.

She batted her eyelashes at him. “I wasn’t expecting you to be the strong silent type,” she laughed. 

Crystal blushed. “Sorry, I- Um- I’m very sorry that I upset you the other night.”

She waved her hand dismissively. “Don’t worry about it. Thank you for the flowers and your sweet note.”

“Uh- Freddie gave me a row for not getting proper writing paper...” Crystal confessed.

Rose laughed. “It was very sweet,” she told him. “I hope you didn’t need the shopping list.”

Crystal admitted he had found the piece of paper crumpled up in his coat pocket after searching the house (desperately, although he did not add that detail) for something to write on. 

“It was nice to have a letter to open,” Rose said. “I think perhaps we have lost something now that everyone just sends messages through their phones.”

With that Crystal suddenly found his voice and the conversation then flowed easily. He was delighted to discover that Rose liked many of the same films and books and musicians he did. He felt as if he had known her for years.

All too soon she leaned closer to him and pressed her lips to his cheek. “You’ve been an absolute delight, Mr Taylor but I’m afraid I have to go. I’ll see you again, perhaps.”

*

“At last,” Freddie cried, “some progress!”

“She’s really lovely,” Crystal sighed, “She’s clever and witty and charming. She looks so familiar. I’m sure I’ve seen her before but I couldn’t think where from. I’ve never really been attracted to women but I really like her.”

“When are you going there again?” Freddie asked.

“Do you think tonight is too soon?” Crystal wondered. 

*

They fell into a routine over the next couple of weeks. Crystal visited the club on Mondays, Wednesdays and Sundays. Rose always sat and chatted to him for a while. 

“He’s so easy to talk to,” Roger sighed to John. “I like him so much.”

Roger was in John’s office sitting on the edge of John’s desk swinging his legs. John looked up from the piece of paper he was studying. “That’s great,” he said carefully, “and when are you going to tell him that you’re not really Rose?”

Roger shook his head. “I don’t know,” he said sadly. “I think that will end things and I’m not ready for that yet.”

“He might surprise you,” John suggested. 

“Perhaps,” Roger said doubtfully. “He has to go away for a bit soon. He’s the guest presenter on an American chat show, I think. Maybe he’ll have forgotten about me by the time he gets back. If he still wants to see me I’ll tell him then.”

*

“I fly back on the first, I think,” Crystal told Rose, “if that’s the Sunday. I don’t get in until late at night so I think it will be the second before I will be back here.”

“Well,” Rose smiled at him, “I’m not going anywhere.” She laid her hand on his shoulder. “There’s something I want to talk to you about when you get back,” she said, biting her lower lip in a way that made Crystal’s heart clench.

“Won’t you tell me now?” he asked. 

Rose shook her head. “When you get back,” she said firmly. “I have to go and get ready for my next dance,” she added, kissing his cheek. “Have a good trip and I’ll see you on the second.”

*

Crystal wondered if Rose had received the postcard he had sent from Los Angeles. Not that he had seen very much of Los Angeles itself. The inside of one recording studio looked a lot like another. He would probably get back faster than the card, he thought as he clipped his seatbelt into place.

A couple of days into his trip he had received a reminder that he had a walkway booth booked at the club for the Saturday before he was due to return from Los Angeles. His first thought was that he should let Freddie know and he could take the booth. If Freddie didn’t want it then perhaps Brian and Ben would. Then a little voice in his head reminded him that he would have finished working by then. He had added extra days to give him some sightseeing time. He was no longer sure he wanted to spend time sightseeing. He would rather be with Rose. So he had sent a message to his assistant to ask if his flight back could be changed.

He settled into his seat and thought with excitement that he would be able to surprise Rose the following evening in the walkway booth. Perhaps one day he could take her to Los Angeles on holiday and they could explore it together. 

*

Saturday was the last day of the month which meant predominantly male dancers graced the walkway and Roger danced as Roger rather than Rose. He carefully pulled his hair into a pony-tail. Rose always wore her hair down but he liked it tied back when he was dancing as himself.

He was glad it was a male night. He was missing Crystal and this would be a distraction. 

Miami booked male dancers looking for work experience for these nights. There was usually a mix of regular dancers and new people. They practised group dances on Saturday mornings. Roger liked the camaraderie and he enjoyed meeting new dancers and hearing their stories.

He carried out some extra stretches. The thought crossed his mind that he was getting too old for this. He pushed the idea away. He was still young. He was still a good dancer. 

He left the dressing room and joined the other men in the hallway. They would start with a group dance. 

*

The club felt different tonight, Crystal thought. It was crowded and there was an air of anticipation and excitement. He realised why as a line of male dancers exploded on to the walkway in a vibrant energetic dance. He remembered what the drunken man had told him about the last night of each month and how Rose did not appear and disappointment crashed over him.

Then he saw her. Except it could not be Rose, of course. This must be her twin brother with his hair in a pony-tail that flew out behind him as he jumped and spun with the lights washing over him. He was as beautiful as Rose was. He really looked astonishingly like her. He looked even more familiar than she did. Perhaps it was this man he had met. Why had Rose not mentioned him? Of course she had not told him anything personal. That thought hurt.

The line of men twisted past the booths. None of them entered either Crystal’s booth or the one opposite which had a group of very famous footballers in it. Crystal sipped some champagne and waited for Rose’s male twin to pass. 

*

Roger was too caught up in the joy of the dance, lost in the music and the moves, to take any notice of who was in the booths at first. Then the man next to him yelped excitedly that Crystal Taylor was in one of the booths.

He must be mistaken, Roger thought. Crystal was in Los Angeles. He glanced over and saw Crystal sitting there, sipping champagne, looking slightly puzzled. But Crystal was in Los Angeles. He could not be here. He should not be here. Crystal should not be here seeing Roger instead of Rose.

Would he notice? Perhaps he would simply think Rose was not there. He would not be expecting to see Rose in this all male troupe so perhaps he would overlook Roger.

He automatically bounced into the Cossack dance the people on the dance floor loved. He heard screams of approval and felt buoyant despite his anxiety about Crystal. Then he was twirling along the walkway as the dancers moved along in a shimmering line. He was getting closer to the booths.

His eyes met Crystal’s and he knew that Crystal knew. He could see the recognition dawning in his eyes, the growing realisation that Roger did not simply look like Rose: he was Rose. Then Crystal looked confused. Roger swept by, drawn along by the line of dancers. 

Shit.

*

It could not be Rose and yet Crystal thought the male dancer with the pony-tail was Rose. He gulped his champagne. 

The line of dancers had all left the walkway now and two men were dancing. Crystal flicked the button that lit the transparent walls of the booth with a soft red glow to indicate he did not want a visit from the dancers. 

Despite this indication that he wanted to be left alone a bright head appeared at the top of the staircase into the booth. Then Rose, or rather the male dancer Crystal thought was also Rose, appeared, gasping for breath. “I can explain,” maybe Rose gasped.

“Rose?” Crystal asked uncertainly.

His visitor indicated themselves – and very nice too, Crystal thought, in a sequined top and very skimpy shorts – and said, “This is me. This is the real me. I’m Roger. Rose is... Rose is my alter-ego, I suppose.”

“You lied to me,” Crystal said coldly. 

Rose/Roger shook their head. “No, no,” he cried, “I was going to tell you when you returned from your trip!”

Crystal barked out a short mirthless laugh. “And now you have.” He stood up and brushed Rose/Roger aside, hurtling down the spiral staircase. He heard them following him, gabbling how sorry they were, pleading with him to stay and talk but he could not.

*

“So Rose is really Roger?” Freddie frowned, pouring wine into two glasses. They were sitting in Crystal’s conservatory although there was no sun to warm them. Rain was cascading down the glass. Crystal was huddled in a blanket, unshaven and still in his pyjamas although it was afternoon.

Crystal nodded glumly. “So it would seem.” He accepted a glass of wine from Freddie. “Thank you.”

Freddie curled up in a chair and sipped his wine thoughtfully. “Does it matter?”

“It matters that Rose lied to me!” Crystal cried. “She didn’t trust me!”

“You were still getting to know each other,” Freddie pointed out. “She said she was going to tell you something when you returned from your trip, didn’t she?”

Crystal nodded. “Yeah,” he muttered sulkily, “but I don’t know whether to believe her or not.”

“Why would she lie?” Freddie wondered.

Crystal shrugged. “People lie all the time,” he gulped, “Ben must’ve been lying to me for ages while he was sneaking around with Brian.”

“Now, darling, that’s a very different thing,” Freddie told him. “Rose, or Roger, was waiting to find the right moment to tell you something very personal. Ben was cheating on you.”

“I wish Rose – Roger – had trusted me,” Crystal grumbled.

“Your problem is that in your job you meet people briefly and ask them a few questions and they confide in you. There is an illusion of instant trust. You can’t expect real life to be like that, darling,” Freddie scolded him. 

“I don’t expect it to be like that!” Crystal cried. “I don’t expect that at all! I have always researched my guests beforehand. I know what to ask and I work out how to ask it if it’s a difficult topic! I bloody wish real life was like that! I wish I’d known what to ask!” He gulped his wine. “Sorry, Fred,” he muttered. “Don’t feel you have to stay. I know I’m not very good company today.”

“Nonsense, dear,” Freddie smiled and topped up their glasses, “Are you going to go back to the club and talk to her?” he asked. 

Crystal sighed heavily. “I don’t know. Yes, I need to talk to her...him...but I’m not sure the club is the best setting. I don’t have any other way to see Rose...Roger...though.” He sighed again. “I really liked Rose and now it’s like she doesn’t exist.”

“I expect all the things you liked about Rose you will discover you like about Roger, dear,” Freddie suggested, “They are the same person, after all.”

“I still have this nagging feeling I’ve seen them before,” Crystal murmured, sipping some wine. “Roger looked even more familiar than Rose.” He shook his head. “I can’t place them, though.”

“Perhaps it’s because you feel destined to be with him,” Freddie ventured. “You felt a really strong connection with him, didn’t you?”

“I felt a really strong connection with Rose,” Crystal muttered.

“They are the same person,” Freddie pointed out. “It’s not often that you make a connection with someone across a crowded room and then feel an incredible attachment when you meet them. And I know that Roger dressing as Rose doesn’t bother you.”

“No,” Crystal agreed, “it doesn’t bother me at all that he chooses to dress as Rose, although I’m worried that he will think it bothers me.” He sighed deeply again. “I shouldn’t have run off like that. It was just so confusing. It bothers me that he didn’t feel he could tell me. I feel like he didn’t trust me or he thought I’d react negatively.” He gulped some wine. “I suppose I did react negatively,” he muttered gloomily.

“He may have had negative reactions before,” Freddie said gently, “and you were still in the very early stages of your relationship. You know that he was going to tell you.”

“I’ve over-reacted, haven’t I?” Crystal said miserably, gulping some wine. “I’ve over-reacted and behaved like a dick to Roger and now he probably won’t want to see me ever again.”

Freddie reached over and patted Crystal’s arm. “You did over-react darling but I’m sure he’ll give you a chance to explain and apologise. I’m pretty sure he felt a strong connection to you, too and I expect he’s just as desolate as you are over this little blip in your emerging relationship.”

Crystal managed a smile. “Thanks, Freddie. You make it sound so fixable.”

“It is fixable, darling. Now, when are you going to the club? Or can you think of another way to get to see him?” 

*

Roger lay on the comfortable sofa in Miami and John’s apartment with slices of cucumber on each eye. His eyes were red and swollen from crying and the occasional tear was still seeping out and trickling down his cheek. He felt a hand gently stroke his hair. “I wish you’d eat something,” John’s voice said.

“Thank you but I’m not hungry,” Roger whimpered. 

“Can we get you something to drink then?” Miami wondered, sounding anxious. 

“I don’t think alcohol is a good idea on an empty stomach,” John muttered. 

“I was thinking more along the lines of hot chocolate,” Miami said, “although sometimes a medicinal brandy is beneficial, surely?” 

“I’m fine,” Roger bleated. He heard John snort his disbelief. “Well, I will be fine,” Roger stated with much more confidence than he felt. “I just liked him so much,” he wailed, dissolving into tears again.

*

It had apparently been raining for forty days and forty nights. “Epic,” Freddie muttered sourly, “or biblical, perhaps.”

It had been a month since Crystal had last ventured to the club. He thought it had been raining then too. He thought it had been raining steadily for far longer than forty days. “I feel like it’s been raining for my whole life,” he muttered. 

“Now, darling, only I am allowed to be dramatic,” Freddie scolded him, “I had it specially written into my contract.” 

There was flooding in some parts of the country. A mini tornado had been reported twisting high in the dark brooding sky over the midlands. “It’s not exactly ‘Wizard of Oz’ territory,” Freddie sniffed.

“A baby tornado,” Crystal nodded. 

It was his first week back on the show after a break to film some one-off in-depth interviews. His success in Los Angeles had led to this unexpected opportunity which he had eagerly seized, partly because he found the work interesting and challenging and partly because the intense filming schedule had almost taken his mind off Rose/Roger. It had also meant that even if he had found the courage to venture to the club to speak to Roger he had not had time to. So it had been a month since he had seen Rose/Roger and Freddie had suggested he had spent that month licking his wounds. “You’re moping,” Freddie had informed him when they had met on Sunday. Dominique’s show was also taking a break but Freddie had continued to visit each Sunday. 

Crystal had also seen Brian and Ben a few times. He had lunch with them either at a restaurant or, more often, at their house every couple of weeks. The relationship felt much more comfortable now although there were occasions when Crystal wondered if they felt sorry for him or if they felt somehow guilty about his single status. He sometimes wondered if they would prefer to be rid of him as a third wheel. 

He had told them that he had met someone he’d liked when he had visited a club with Freddie. He had explained that he had thought the relationship was going somewhere but there had been a misunderstanding – was it a misunderstanding he wondered? – misunderstanding sounded delightfully easy to repair: simply clear things up so that everyone understood – and the relationship had stalled. “Freddie seems to think I can fix it,” he had said hopefully, not adding that Freddie had subsequently noted that he was never going to fix it if he did not actually go and talk to Roger. 

“It’s great that you’ve found someone,” Ben had said. Had he been a bit too enthusiastic, Crystal reflected – was it paranoid of him to wonder if they did feel guilty about him being single? 

“I’m sorry it’s not been plain sailing,” Brian had said sympathetically. “Sometimes the best relationships are the ones you have to fight for.” 

Was that true, Crystal wondered. If he did go and see Roger would that mean they’d have a better relationship? If Roger would agree to see him. He knew Freddie was right and he should return to the club but he was too damn scared. 

“Roger exists,” Freddie had told him when he had bewailed the fact that Rose had been an illusion. “I expect that once you stop sulking and return to the club to see him you’ll discover that all the things you had in common with Rose you also have in common with Roger.”

“I can’t,” Crystal had wailed. “I couldn’t bear it if he doesn’t want to see me!”

“Well, darling, I’m very disappointed in you. I hadn’t realised you were such a coward. I am pretty sure he will see you – although the longer you leave it the less chance you have in my opinion – and if he doesn’t want to see you then at least you know where you stand.”

“I know you’re right,” Crystal had sighed, “but you make it sound so simple and it feels insurmountable to me.” 

Now, Freddie stood back and admired his handy-work. “Well,” he sighed, “that’s the best I can do.”

Crystal stuck his tongue out at him. “Thanks, Freddie, see you later.”

*

The Crystal Taylor show started again that night, Roger knew. So he wasn’t expecting Crystal to visit the club. He was unable to stop wishing Crystal would return. He had been waiting for Crystal to come back, to give him a chance to explain, since he had last seen him.

He had thought about getting in touch with Crystal via his agent, as he had done with Brian. He had not received any response from Brian though so he had no way of knowing if the stars saw any of the messages they were sent. Perhaps their assistants simply deleted it all without reading any of it. 

There was a postal address too but Roger reckoned a letter had an even higher chance of being binned unopened than an email did. He sighed as he pranced off the walkway. 

Life had continued much as normal for him after Crystal had left but everything had felt much sadder and bleaker without his visits to the club to look forward to. Roger reminded himself that his loss was his own silly fault. If he had taken John’s advice and told Crystal that he was really Roger not Rose sooner Crystal would have had less of a shock and perhaps he would have been more receptive to the idea. 

Perhaps not, though, Roger reflected unhappily. Crystal had now had quite a bit of time to think about it and he had not returned. Roger told himself sadly that he simply had to face the fact that Crystal had only been interested in Rose and did not want him. 

He had to stop moaning to John about how much he missed Crystal and start living his life again. He would have to get used to being alone as it appeared that was going to be his lot in life. 

*

Crystal wasn’t sure why he had agreed to meet Ben and Brian after the show. He never met anyone after shows - it was one of his golden rules. He liked time to relax. He had wanted a distraction, he realised – something to take his mind off Roger – easy conversation that did not include Roger or reminders that at the very least Crystal owed Roger an apology and he absolutely should be manning up and going to the club to deliver that apology.

“You were on sparkling form tonight,” Ben told him, giving him a quick hug.

“Thanks,” Crystal felt impossibly tired and wondered how quickly he could make an excuse and leave. 

“Good mix of guests,” Brian commented. “The opera singer was really funny.”

They were in a crowded trendy bar. The music and the voices were too loud. Crystal was too tired. He sipped his cocktail and grimaced at the taste. “No good?” Ben yelled. 

Crystal shook his head. “Much too sweet,” he called back, wondering if Ben could even hear him. 

He was relieved when, after a couple of drinks, Brian had suggested they should go elsewhere and they had ended up back at Brian and Ben’s house. Crystal gratefully accepted a coffee. “Sorry,” he apologised, “I think I must be getting old – the shows seem to tire me out these days.” 

“I found it hard enough as a guest,” Brian joked. 

Crystal did not stay long. He found himself agreeing to have lunch with them the following day. “Come here again,” Ben suggested, “it’ll be more relaxed.” 

*

Crystal wished he had not agreed to meet for lunch. He was not in the mood, he thought. He could hear Freddie’s voice in his head telling him that he was moping and it would do him good to get out of the house, although better still he should get out of the house and over to the club to talk to Roger. It was too early for the club, of course. Sighing, he booked a car to take him to Ben and Brian’s.

Ben hugged him warmly. “Are you okay, mate, you see a bit down?” he murmured. 

“Yeah, I’m fine, thanks. Just...still thinking about the person I met where it hasn’t worked out and I s’pose I’m a bit sad about it,” Crystal mumbled. 

“Aw, I’m sorry,” Ben hugged him again. “You deserve all the love in the world.”

Brian appeared in the hall. “What’s up?” He listened as Ben explained. “Is there definitely no hope with the person you like?” he asked softly. 

Crystal shook his head. “Well, maybe...I don’t know...Sorry...can we perhaps talk about something else?” 

“Of course,” Ben slung an arm around his shoulder. “Brian, it’s time for my daily nagging session: have you replied to your ex-husband’s email today?”

Brian sighed, “No, not yet.”

“Bri, really, you can’t keep putting it off,” Ben chided. 

“I won’t,” Brian protested, “but I need to think carefully about what to say to him.”

Ben rolled his eyes. “Bri, he’s been waiting a long time for a reply as it is,” he reminded him gently. 

“Maybe you ought to invite him for lunch,” Crystal suggested, “It might be easier if you see him face to face. Tell him he can bring someone for moral support.” A little voice in his head that sounded suspiciously like Freddie’s commented that he was very good at giving advice to Brian but not so great at taking similar action himself with regards to Roger. 

“That’s a great idea,” Ben beamed. “I’ll help you compose an email inviting him later today,” he told Brian firmly. “No more excuses!” He glanced at Crystal. “You ought to be there too,” he suggested, “you can referee if necessary!”

*

“Ooh, sorry!” Roger backed out of John’s office, raising his hand to shield his eyes from the sight of John and Miami locked in a passionate kiss. 

“You can look now, idiot!” John called, adding, “That’ll teach you not to knock!”

“We were only kissing,” Miami pointed out, “It could have been much worse!” He tousled Roger’s hair. “I’ll leave you to it...”

“No, stay, please, Miami, I...I’ve received a reply from Brian,” Roger said, gnawing anxiously at his lower lip. He offered his phone to John. “I’d like to know what both of you think.”

Roger paced up and down the small office as first John and then Miami read Brian’s email. “Would you like one of us, or both of us, to accompany you?” John asked. 

Miami shook his head slightly, “Perhaps a better question to start with would be: do you intend to meet him?”

“I...don’t know,” Roger muttered. “It’s been so long...I don’t know.”

“Well,” John wrapped his arms around Roger, “since he took a fucking age to reply to you I don’t think you need to rush a response to him.”

*

The question of whether or not to meet Brian was never far from Roger’s mind over the next few days. In a way he was glad for the distraction – fretting about Brian meant less time pining for Crystal. 

He felt slightly irritated by Brian’s email. He had assumed Brian was not going to reply which had felt slightly insulting at first but then had been fine. He had pretty much convinced himself that Brian had never seen his message. And until the interviews with Crystal and Dominique Roger had not thought of Brian for a long time so after not receiving a reply to his email to Brian Roger had stopped thinking about him again. By replying to the message now he had resumed intruding on Roger’s thoughts. 

Crystal had never really left Roger’s thoughts since he had met him and Roger sometimes wondered if he ever would. Was he destined to have Crystal constantly on his mind? Had he felt like this when he split up with Brian? He didn’t think so. He’d been sad then but he didn’t think Brian had haunted him in quite the same way. He thought how pathetic it was that he had not really had any serious relationships since his marriage had ended.

Would he have to invent a more thrilling life for himself if he had lunch with Brian? Yes, actually, Bri, I now run my own club and I have a wonderful partner... But he would get caught out. And there was nothing wrong with his life. It just lacked Crystal. Roger sighed. Could he go and meet Brian and just be himself? He felt as if being himself with Brian would make him vulnerable although he couldn’t quite work out why. Was he over-thinking the whole thing? Yes, almost certainly, although Brian had been the king of over-thinking when they’d been together. Roger grinned, suddenly imagining Brian agonising about what to say in the email. No wonder the response had taken so bloody long to arrive. 

The lunch would be with Brian, Brian’s new lover, a person of Roger’s choice and Brian had said that if Roger was comfortable with the idea they had considered asking an impartial friend to be present too. A bouncer, Roger thought, presumably in case things became wildly uncivilised. Could Brian’s friend really be impartial? Should he say he was not comfortable with that idea? He sighed. Why was it so hellishly complicated? Maybe he should just say no and get on with his life without Brian.

Crystal had been trying to remain friends with Ben, Roger recalled, allowing himself to feel a little pang of loss at the thought of Crystal. Was it worth trying to do the adult thing and have a cordial meeting with your former lover? He supposed Crystal would potentially have to interview both Ben and Brian at some point in the future. There was sense in trying to at least remain on speaking terms with them. But Roger never had to meet Brian again if he didn’t want to. There was comfort in that thought too. Part of him wondered if that would be easier for Brian and what Brian expected to happen. And a small part of Roger that he didn’t like all that much thought that if seeing Roger would be uncomfortable for Brian then that was the course of action Roger should take. He was uneasy at the idea that a part of him, however small, was keen to punish Brian.

“I’m not sure about this third party they mention,” he told John.

John had been rummaging through the filing cabinet and looked up as Roger spoke. “I suspect they think you might turn up with a lover and that both couples are likely to be on their best behaviour if there is a third party present who isn’t involved with any of the other people.” He considered this. “I’m not sure I’d want to be the single third party,” he added with a grin. 

Roger sighed. “It’s just lunch,” he said, “and I never have to see them again if it’s awful. I think I’m gonna reply to say I’ll do it.” He bit his lower lip. “Would you mind coming with me?”

“I’d be delighted,” John told him.

*

“Ooh,” Freddie sipped his coffee and glanced away from Dominique on the screen towards Crystal, “so you’re going to meet this Ronald, or...What was his name? Brian’s abandoned free spirit.”

Crystal shrugged. “Ben seems to think everyone will be on their best behaviour if I’m there.” He grinned. “I’ll be a double gooseberry if Brian’s ex rocks up with his new partner.” 

“And this is happening next Saturday?” Freddie clarified, “So you’ll be able to tell me everything on Sunday?” 

“It’s just lunch,” Crystal said.

“It has the potential for drama, darling, and you know it!” Freddie declared. 

*

“You’re sure this jacket isn’t too much?” Roger fretted. He thought he had tried on every single item of clothing he owned at least once when trying to decide what to wear for Lunch With Brian. He had finally decided on black jeans, a white t-shirt and a pink velvet jacket with his sparkly pink shoes.

“You look great,” John told him, his voice firm. “You always look great.” He was driving them to Lunch With Brian which was taking place at Brian’s house. Roger had been unsure about that too but had thought that he would have John with him and a private setting might be for the best.

“And I can always just leave,” he murmured. 

“We can leave any time you like,” John agreed. “That’s why I’ve taken the car – we can just go if you need to.” 

Roger nodded. “Thank you so much for doing this.” 

John grinned. “I’m quite curious to meet Brian and his new partner!” 

Roger laughed. “Don’t go all star-struck and abandon me!” 

“I promise I won’t,” John assured him, his tone perfectly serious. “I’ll be right by your side.”

*

Brian was pacing up and down. “Relax,” Ben said, squeezing Brian’s shoulder.

Brian snorted, his hands tugging anxiously at his curls. “That’s easy for you to say. You’re not the one about to be faced with your ex-husband.”

“My ex is already here,” Ben pointed out, glancing at Crystal. 

Crystal was already regretting coming. This was none of his business. If Brian’s ex was intent on causing trouble Crystal doubted his presence would help and if he wasn’t going to cause any bother then Crystal was superfluous.

“It’s just been so long since I’ve seen Rog,” Brian muttered. 

Crystal thought of Rose/Roger. What a coincidence that the person of his dreams shared a name with Brian’s former husband.

And suddenly he realised why Rose/Roger had looked so familiar.

“Oh! Oh, shit! I have to go!” Crystal panicked, rising from his seat so quickly he very nearly tipped over his wine glass. 

“What’s wrong?” Ben asked, alarmed. 

The doorbell rang.

*

It was odd seeing someone whose face you were very familiar with from television opening their front door to you, Roger thought as Ben Hardy smiled at them. “Hi, I’m Ben,” he introduced himself needlessly.

“I’m Roger,” Roger said, hating how hoarse his voice sounded, “and this is my friend, John.”

“Pleased to meet you,” John offered. 

“Lovely to meet you too,” Ben smiled again, “Come in...”

*

Roger looked lovely in a warm pink jacket. His hair was falling in soft waves around his face. Crystal felt rooted to the spot. He wanted to flee but he could only stand and stare. 

Roger saw him and looked shocked for a moment before he was swept into an awkward hug by Brian. The man with Roger glared at Crystal. “Mr Taylor,” he said coldly, “I’m John. Roger asked me to accompany him here - I’m a friend of his.”

“Please, call me Crystal,” Crystal croaked. “Pleased to meet you too,” he added, shaking John’s hand.

Brian had released Roger who moved over to Crystal. “I didn’t...I wasn’t expecting...” Roger gasped. 

“I’m so sorry,” Crystal gabbled. “I didn’t realise until just now...I thought you looked familiar...I should go...”

“Do you two know each other?” Ben asked. 

“They had a bit of a misunderstanding the last time they met,” John informed Ben and Brian crisply. “Would you two like a few moments alone?” he added. 

*

Roger felt utter panic for a second and shook his head frantically then realised that this was what he had wanted – a moment with Crystal so he could explain. He nodded. He looked at Crystal.

“Yeah,” Crystal gulped, “that’d be...useful.”

Ben shepherded John and a confused looking Brian out of the room. John looked back over his shoulder. “Just yell if you need me,” he told Roger. 

Once they’d gone, Crystal found he could move again and staggered to the table to gulp from his wine glass. “Oh,” Roger said, suddenly longing for some wine himself, “liquid courage!”

Crystal grabbed an empty glass and poured wine into it, wordlessly holding it out to Roger who sipped some. Crystal glared at him. “Very delicate,” he muttered. 

Roger glared back, “Oaf!” he snapped.

Then, suddenly, they both started to laugh. “I’m so sorry,” Crystal repeated. “I thought I’d seen you before and it wasn’t until just before you arrived here that I realised it was because I’d seen photos of you with Brian. I didn’t mean to...distress you.”

Roger sipped more wine. “It didn’t occur to me that you might be the friend Brian had invited over,” he told Crystal, adding, feeling almost shy, “but I’m glad you are. I wanted to apologise to you.”

“Apologise to me?” Crystal echoed, “No, I should be the one apologising to you! I was completely unreasonable. I...” He gulped more wine. “Um- What would you like me to call you?” 

“Roger,” Roger told him. “Rose is work. I’m really Roger and I regard myself as male.” He looked anxiously at Crystal. “John told me to tell you sooner but I was scared you wouldn’t want Roger and I wasn’t ready to let you go.”

Crystal sighed. “I liked Rose very much,” he said slowly, considering what he wanted to say. “I felt as if I didn’t know you at all when I found out you were really Roger and I felt, I suppose, that you didn’t trust me enough to tell me and that hurt. I overreacted, I know that now. I’ve been lied to before in relationships and this felt a bit like that, although I have realised now that of course you didn’t lie to me and...I’m so sorry, Roger. I should have come back to the club to see you before now so we could talk. I’ve just been so scared you wouldn’t want to see me again.” He sighed. “Sorry, I feel I’m not saying this very well...”

Roger considered this. “I was...Something happened to me and for a long time I was unable to work. I’d been working in a strip club at the time and...Well, eventually I did manage to return to work as a dancer but I returned as Rose because I felt safer having a persona to hide behind. Rose was necessary, at first. And I wanted to tell you straight away, really, because when we first met it felt amazing. I’ve never felt like that about anyone before but I thought you wouldn’t want the real me.”

They were very close now. Roger’s eyes met Crystal’s and then their lips joined together in a warm tender kiss. “Oh,” Roger breathed, as they broke apart.

“I want Roger very much,” Crystal whispered.

They both flinched at a knock on the door. “Um...May I come in?” Ben’s voice called. 

“Yeah,” Crystal called back, stepping away from Roger. 

Ben slid around the door. “I just need to check on the food,” he explained, adding, “I can go again...?”

Roger shook his head, “No, thank you, we’ve sorted everything out now,” he said cheerfully. 

*

“So,” Brian asked, the moment he returned to the kitchen, “um...is Roger the person you were telling us about Crystal?”

“Bri,” Ben hissed, shooting an apologetic glance at Crystal.

“Yes,” Crystal replied. 

“And you two are...?” Brian queried, apparently oblivious to the exasperated look Ben was aiming at him.

“In a very new relationship,” Crystal told him. 

“Oh, that’s wonderful!” Ben beamed, adding, “So we’ve kind of swapped partners - what a coincidence!” 

*

Ben gave Brian a little nudge as he cleared away the plates their main course had been served on. Brian flushed and gulped some wine. “So, Rog, I wanted to apologise to you for the way I treated you when we were married. You deserved better. I’m so sorry for cheating on you and I’m sorry that you had to find out from a chat show rather than from me. I’m sorry I was so...so...I’m sorry about how I ended things too...”

Roger smiled at him. “It’s all water under the bridge now, Bri,” he said softly. “Thank you for your apology, though, that means a lot to me.”

“Well, I wanted to say it anyway,” Brian murmured, adding, “And I’m sorry you were so heavily featured on Dominique’s show.”

“I’m really glad I’m not famous,” Roger told him, “I feel like the part of my life when I was married to you is exposed to the public gaze and almost doesn’t really belong to me anymore. Your whole life must be like that.”

“It has been tough lately,” Brian agreed. “The stories that circulate are often the last straw when you are already trying to deal with the emotions generated by what’s happening in your life to cause the stories.” 

“I was sorry to hear about the miscarriage,” Roger murmured. “You’d be a really good dad.”

“Thanks,” Brian said. “That was really tough, especially being blamed for it by the press and I did feel I was to blame, y’ know?”

Everyone nodded sympathetically. “You weren’t to blame,” Ben told him firmly. Brian looked unconvinced.

Crystal steered the conversation on to more general territory, thinking that was his role at this gathering. His eyes kept drifting towards Roger who threw the occasional little smile in his direction. 

*

John offered Crystal a lift home. Crystal accepted, eager to spend longer with Roger. They both slipped into the back seat of the car. “I feel like your chauffeur,” John laughed. 

“Are you working later?” Crystal asked Roger.

Roger nodded. “Are you going to be there?” he asked.

“I will be, yes,” Crystal told him, “if that’s okay?”

“Of course it is!” Roger said. “I’ll be dancing as Rose,” he added, biting his lower lip. 

“Perhaps I could wait until Rose has finished work and then see Roger?” Crystal suggested feeling slightly awkward. 

“Yes,” Roger breathed, “I...I’ll sit with you as Rose, too, of course...”

“You are Rose,” John noted impatiently. 

“Yes, but...Rose is different,” Roger mumbled.

“You’re lovely,” Crystal assured him, blushing, “whatever name you use.”

John rolled his eyes. “You two are already sickening,” he groaned. 

*

Crystal was surprised to be escorted to a walkway booth when he entered the club. He was whisked past a group of people who were being told there had been an unfortunate double booking but they would, of course, receive a full refund and a free night in a walkway booth at a later date. John was waiting at the top of the stairs. “Uh- How much do I owe you for this?” Crystal asked feeling slightly dazed.

“This is on the house,” John told him. “I also wanted to take this opportunity to say that if you hurt Roger in any way then I will kill you. No one will ever find out what happened to you.”

Crystal nodded. “Understood,” he said. 

While he waited for Roger to appear he sent a message to Freddie. Freddie had been sending him messages while Crystal was at Brian and Ben’s house as he had realised, shortly after Crystal, apparently, that Rose/Roger was Brian’s former husband. Crystal had replied at the time to say he had just figured that out for himself. He sent a message now to say that all was well. 

Roger did not enter the booth on his first dance but did enter the booth afterwards to sit with Crystal. “If I come in here then I have to go in there,” he explained to Crystal, nodding towards the other booth which was filled with a howling very drunken stag party.

Crystal scowled in their direction. “Yeah, don’t go near them,” he said, feeling a rush of protectiveness towards Roger. 

He was rewarded with a kiss and curved his arm around Roger, pulling him closer. They kissed until it was time for Roger to go and get ready for his next dance. “You might need to re-apply your lipstick,” Crystal smirked. 

Roger returned after his second dance. “I’ll be on again later,” he told Crystal. “Beth’s on holiday so I’m covering for her.”

After his last dance Roger returned to the booth and sat on Crystal’s lap. “Just let me get changed and I’m all yours,” he murmured.

*

In the back of the car on the way to Roger’s bed-sit they kissed frenziedly. Crystal was barely aware of his surroundings as they moved inside, his hands were already unbuttoning Roger’s clothes as Roger unlocked his front door. He dimly registered that Roger’s mattress creaked and jangled as they fell onto the bed. The room was chilly but Roger was hot, wriggling out of his clothes beneath Crystal. 

“Is this too much?” Crystal gasped. “Is it too soon? Are you okay?” 

“This is perfect,” Roger replied, “If you’re okay?” he added. 

“Yes,” Crystal breathed, “I am very okay.” 

*

Crystal was not sure where he was at first when he awakened. A voice grumbled something incoherent and he started as he realised he was not alone in this strange bed. Then he remembered – Roger. He was with Roger. He grinned – being with Roger felt right. Roger was curled up next to him, facing towards him. Crystal tenderly stroked a lock of hair off Roger’s cheek. Roger mumbled something indistinct. “Morning, blue-eyes,” Crystal whispered. 

Roger grunted. He opened one eye briefly and grunted again. Roger was not a morning person, then, Crystal thought fondly. Nor was he, really, so they had that in common too. He snuggled back down under the duvet. 

He awakened again to find Roger nestled against him, his blond head resting on Crystal’s chest. “Morning,” Roger mumbled sleepily.

He discovered Roger got up slowly, rolling on to his back and staring at the ceiling for a bit, then rising, shivering, to make tea which they drank in bed, eating some chocolate digestive biscuits from a packet. “I normally go ‘n’ have brunch at the club. You could come?” Roger said hopefully. 

Crystal was about to agree to this before realising Freddie would be expecting to see him. “I can let him know I won’t be there, of course,” he told Roger, “or, if you would like, you could come over to mine and we could have lunch and you could meet Freddie properly?” 

“I’d like that,” Roger told him. 

* 

Freddie was already on the doorstep looking furious. “Yeah, I know, it’s all fine, was not an adequate response to my message, Christopher,” he declared, sweeping Roger away from Crystal and folding his arms around him, “Roger, darling, I’m so sorry that you are now apparently lumbered with this idiot.” He kissed both of Roger’s cheeks. “I’m Freddie, dear. We met in the club, of course, but we were not exactly introduced. I’m delighted to meet you properly now.”

Crystal opened the door and followed them both into his house. Freddie had his arm around Roger’s shoulders. “I have the misfortune to have to make Crystal presentable before he is beamed live to the nation on a Friday night,” Freddie was telling Roger. “So you know -I like a challenge.”

“You’re his stylist?” Roger asked uncertainly. He looked a little dazed which Crystal thought was understandable. 

“Make-up artist, stylist and I have the challenge of attempting to do something with what hair he has left,” Freddie sighed. “On a limited budget too – I’ve heard Dominique has a separate stylist, make-up artist and hairdresser.”

“I have hair,” Crystal protested feebly but they were excitedly discussing how joyful working for Dominique would be and not listening to him. “I could arrange for you to be in a position where you’re seeking work, Freddie,” Crystal said sweetly, “Now, what would you like for lunch?”

*

They sat eating pizza and watching Dominique interrogating a celebrity chef. If Crystal hadn’t known better he’d have thought Freddie and Roger had known each other all their lives. In the ad break they were discussing the best waterproof mascara. Crystal sulkily thought that he was clearly surplus to requirements. 

As if sensing this, Roger turned to him and asked what he thought of the celebrity chef. “Have you interviewed him?” he wondered. 

Crystal shook his head. “He has a reputation for being arrogant and difficult and he isn’t really famous enough for our show. With that tragic family history, though, I can see why Dom wanted to interview him.”

*

Freddie left soon after the show ended. “It was a joy to meet you, Roger. I’m sure I’ll see you again soon. Crystal, darling, I still haven’t forgiven you for your appalling lack of communication yesterday but I’m glad Roger appears able to tolerate you.”

Crystal waved to Freddie and closed the front door. He gathered Roger into his arms, kissing him. “Is my being well-known going to be an issue for you?” he asked anxiously. “I know you don’t want any press intrusion into your life.”

“I don’t,” Roger agreed, pressing little kisses to Crystal’s jaw, “but if that is the price I have to pay for being with you then I’ll do it.”

“I don’t get as much publicity as actors do,” Crystal assured him. “And we can spend all our spare time in bed where the paparazzi can’t find us.”

Roger laughed. “That sounds good to me!” 

*

They had the occasional double date with Ben and Brian, always at discreet restaurants. It felt odd at first but after a while the friendships their previous relationships had been based on re-emerged and Roger thought that on the whole perhaps it was worth going through the awkward patch at the beginning in order to keep the friendship, which he thought had always been the best thing about being with Brian. He wasn’t sure he would have persevered if he had been on his own but having Crystal by his side made it easier.

Liking Ben helped too. He’d won another friendship, he thought, and that was an unexpected bonus.

*

Miami threw a lavish Christmas party which the staff and their families were invited to every year. Everyone received gifts. Roger always enjoyed the party but this year he was enjoying it even more as Crystal was with him. They had commandeered one of the booths and turned on the privacy settings so they could kiss in peace. Despite this, they broke apart as someone cleared their throat. Turning they saw Miami. “I’m sorry to interrupt,” he said, “but we’re about to hand out gifts and I wouldn’t want to have to look at your disappointed little face if you missed that, Rog.”

“I’m not gonna get a present better than you, ever,” Roger whispered to Crystal as they left the booth. 

Crystal pulled him close for another kiss. “That’s very soppy of you,” he murmured, “but you’re the best gift I’ve ever had too,” Crystal said gruffly. He felt a little warm glow inside as Roger beamed at him. “And you agreeing to move in with me is one of the best things that has ever happened to me too,” he added. 

Roger laughed. “Well, in a way, moving into your lovely home is a gift for me!” He then looked slightly anxious. “That is a joke – I don’t just love you for your mansion!” 

“It’s your lovely home now, too,” Crystal murmured. “And it feels more like a home when you’re there so I can’t wait until you move in.” His lips nuzzled Roger’s neck. “The house next door has just gone on the market if Miami and John are serious about looking for a new place.”

“Oh, that would be perfect!” Roger’s eyes were shining. He grabbed Crystal’s hand. “Come on, let’s go and tell them!” 

*

Roger’s sexy Mrs Santa Claus lingerie lay discarded and tangled on the floor and Roger and Crystal’s limbs tangled together in bed. Roger’s hands smoothed Crystal’s hair. “You’re a very handsome man, Mr Taylor,” he said, his voice husky.

“You’re not so bad yourself, Mr Taylor,” Crystal grinned. “I suppose we should get up,” he added. Neither of them moved. 

“What were you doing last Christmas?” Roger wondered. “I was working,” he added.

“So was I,” Crystal murmured. “I did one of those heart-warming shows where poor souls in hospital were forced to share their emotional stories with me. I’m pretty sure everyone would have liked me to bugger off so they could have their Christmas dinner in peace.” 

Roger laughed. “I’m sure they loved meeting you,” he said. “I was working in the bar for Miami. The club doesn’t open on Christmas day although we have theme nights pretty much every other day for two weeks but the restaurant and bar do open.”

“Well, I’m not giving you up today,” Crystal said fiercely, “so that nice Irish bloke will need to manage on his own.”

“Jim,” Roger told him. “Freddie seems to have made quite an impression on him when we were in the other day.”

“Did he? Freddie was raving about Jim’s accent and his lovely hands,” Crystal pressed his lips to the top of Roger’s head. “Maybe I should take Freddie for drinks more often,” he said thoughtfully. 

“That sounds like a very good idea,” Roger murmured, “I can let you know Jim’s shifts...”

“I want everyone to be as happy as I am,” Crystal told him. 

“No one could be as happy as me,” Roger informed him seriously. “I know what you mean, though. Everyone should have a love like ours.” 

Crystal kissed him. “I’m so lucky to have you in my life.” 

“I feel exactly the same,” Roger told him, “When I’m with you everything is right with the world.” 

*

Roger reached Crystal’s side just as the countdown to midnight ended in cheers and screams of delight and glitter falling from the ceiling of the club. “Happy new year,” Roger yelled. Crystal pulled him into a kiss. 

As they drew apart Roger noted with approval that Jim had found Freddie and they were still locked in a kiss. He glanced over at the other walkway booth and saw Ben and Brian kissing and John and Miami hugging. “Everyone’s in love,” he told Crystal happily.

“Everything’s as it should be,” Crystal agreed, pulling Roger closer and joining their lips together.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "Did her green eyes seduce you and make you get so weak?  
> Was there fire engine red that she left upon your cheek?  
> It's such a shame you had to break the heart   
> You could have counted on but the last thing you need   
> Is another episode of blonde"  
> Episode of Blonde by Elvis Costello 
> 
> Thank you for reading if you made it this far! :)  
> Let me know what you think?

**Author's Note:**

> “Revolving like a jeweller’s figure on a music box  
> Spangled curtain parted and a night club scene unlocks  
> Pinned and fixed and fastened in a follow spot  
> Arms thrown out to everyone, she’s giving all she’s got”  
> Episode of Blonde - Elvis Costello 
> 
> If you got this far then thank you so much for reading! Let me know what you think? :)


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